


Random Thoughts

by badskippy



Series: Random Bagginshield [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, Gandalf Meddles, Gay Sex, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Mind Reading, One True Pairing, Reincarnation, True Love, betterBOTFA, modernau, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:33:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2369507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badskippy/pseuds/badskippy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin is taking the tube to met an old client for dinner/business meeting.  He sees a cute guy on the train and can't help but think the most deliciously dirty things about him.  Funny enough, the guy knows just what Thorin is thinking ....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Random Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beetle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beetle/gifts).



> This fic is INSPIRED by this Tumblr prompt .... **AU prompt: Person A is thinking sexually graphic or generally odd thoughts and suddenly panics and thinks “If you’re a mind reader, cough right now.” Person B coughs.**

* * *

 

            _Bloody hell! What a sodding, long day!_

            Thorin Durinson stood on the platform, a scowl on his face, as he waited for the train to come to a halt. The scowl kept everyone away because, honestly, who in their right mind was going to mess around with a six-two tall man who looked like he would tear their face off with one hand.

_Just hope none of these people talk to me. I hate making small talk on the fucking tube!_

He wasn’t really angry, he was just tired and he had one of those last-minute dinner/business meetings to attend that he had a sinking feeling he was going to get stood up at.

            This particular client was notorious for stand-ups. He was wealthy and eccentric and had a very bad habit of canceling at the last minute; like as-Thorin-was-sitting-down-at-the-table-last-minute.

            _Why the hell do I have to continuously entertain these fucking old cronies that dad brought on board? Christ, the man’s been dead for five years now, I should just tell them all to shove off and be done with them!_

            But the truth was these old cronies were too wealthy to go tell to sod off, so, once again, Thorin was going out to dinner when he just wanted to go home, get into his underwear, have a cold one and watch the telly.

            As the doors opened, Thorin fought his way to a seat along the side of the car and sat down. Some choose to stand even though there were a few seats still available, but as the train started moving, the car was pretty well full.

            The bump and sway of the carriage were sort of relaxing and Thorin took a deep breath, hunched his shoulders, which cracked his back and then rolled his head so that he cracked his neck. He felt a little better after that.

            Thorin looked at his watch. _I’ve got twenty minutes so I might as well just relax._

            Thorin decided to just look around. There were all the 'usual' riders; the old man dressed like it was mid-winter even though it was only September. _Christ, how can the man not even break a sweat in a get up like that?_ The young hipsters that were heading back to tiny apartments after completing a long day at their low paying jobs. _I don’t know how the hell young people can live in this city with the amount they are paid!_ Independent businesswomen in their business attire and severe haircuts, trying to make it in a world run by men. _I wonder how many of them have been passed over because of their gender? I’d love to see someone try and pass Dis over!_ A few shaved head youths who still think they know it all. _God, was I ever that stupid when I was young? Probably worse._ And other businessmen like him, in various states of neatness; from freshly pressed to rumpled.

            Then his eyes fell on a guy across the way and Thorin almost forgot to breathe.

            _Holy Christ is he cute!_

            Tussled honey-blond hair, deep green eyes, pure white tee-shirt with clean blue jeans, offset by a waistcoat and flawless skin.

            _I will bet you ten to one that waistcoat is vintage._ It was the sort of outfit that Thorin could never dream of pulling off. _Christ, it’s like it was made for him! And look at that face and those eyes and that hair; I wouldn’t mind taking a few long hours to explore what’s under those clothes._

            The guy was reading a book and as Thorin watched, the guy slowly brought his right hand up to his mouth, the tip of a moist, pink tongue darted out, licked the tip of the guy's middle finger and then the blond used the finger to turn a page.

            Thorin had to close his eyes.

            _JESUS CHRIST! Get a grip Durinson!_ Thorin’s mind was replaying the move and the tongue was what did it. _I bet that tongue would feel good on the tip of my cock! Shit, I bet it would feel good just about anywhere, but just think of him taking my cock and slowly rolling back the foreskin with that tongue of his! I wonder what that tongue would taste like as well! Would be lovely to push my own tongue between his lips and get a taste of that mouth and tongue of his!_

Thorin looked back and froze; the guy was looking right at him! Green eyes met Thorin’s blue and Thorin could almost feel an electric zing going through him. It didn’t help that that zing settled in his groin.

            _Do you have any idea what I want to do to you right now? Have you a clue that I would love nothing more than to have you naked and straddling my lap as the sway of the train made you rock up and down on my hard cock?_

The guy just gave Thorin a sweet smile but as the blond looked away, Thorin could swear he saw a pale pink blush spread across the cheeks of the guy. For a fraction of a second, Thorin laughed to himself. _Too bad he can’t read my mind!_

But Thorin was already thinking about the guy and himself, alone.

            _I’d love to get him in my office, strip him down to nothing and lay him out on the desk, flat on his back and work my mouth over his body, over and through every inch and crevasse. Hold him down while I work his balls with my tongue until I have him moaning and begging for me to give him some relief. Slowly lick my way up and down his cock until he starts wiggling around and then take him whole to the root and make him cum. Flip him over and then work my cock into him deep and long, feeling the tightness wrapped around my pole until I’m thrusting in and out and making him squeal like a cat in heat before finally letting go and filling him fully with my seed. Yeah, now that’s the way to end the fucking day!_

Thorin chuckled to himself but looked over at the guy who had now blushed deep pink and … did Thorin just hear the guy giggle to himself? He shook his head; _you’re losing it Durinson if you think the guy can read your mind._ Of course, a small part of him wished the guy had read his mind! Would make it so much easier to have his way with the cutie!

            _Wouldn’t be so bad to have him naked in the kitchen either; drizzle him with warm chocolate syrup and whip cream and have him for a late night snack before bed!_

The train came to a stop and Thorin snapped out of his musings.

            _Shit. I wonder if it’s too bold to ask for his number. Fuck it, we’ve already made eye contact and don’t fucking tell me he isn’t interested in at least a tumble._

As he stood and made to leave, so did most of the car. He only caught sight of the guy for a moment before the guy disappeared behind the multitude of people pushing for the exit.

            It was near the door that fate played her hand.

            Thorin was stopped for a second to let a woman out first when he suddenly looked down and there was the guy; right fucking next to him! In that second two things happened. One, Thorin realized that the guy only came to his shoulder and wasn’t that a total fucking turn-on! Thorin always loved the cute, cuddly ones; like a living teddy bear! And two the guy turned to him with want in his eyes and said in a barely heard whisper, “I actually like caramel sauce better than chocolate.”

            Thorin stood there gaping and in that moment of hesitation, the crowd surged a bit, the guy was swallowed up by the throng, and Thorin lost all sight of him.

            _He fucking knew what I was thinking?  He FUCKING knew what I was thinking!  HOLY CHRIST ON A CROSS!_

            Thorin began to turn this way and that, hoping to catch sight of the guy but there was nothing. It was like the guy just disappeared. That is until Thorin caught a glimpse of the guy walking up the stairs to the street above. Thorin rushed after him and tried to keep a clear view but it was no use; by the time he hit the street, the guy was completely gone.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            All the way to the café, Thorin kept having to shake his head to clear it. He just couldn’t get his mind wrapped around the idea that the cute guy on the tube had not only not minded Thorin’s thoughts but the fact that the guy had clearly read them in the first place!

            _Just my luck! Met the perfect man and he disappears on me!_

            Thorin wondered what he could do. He didn’t have a fucking name and he had been too much of an idiot not to have tried to get a picture of the guy with his mobile! _Dammit! Maybe I should just start taking the tube every fucking day at the same time and see if I run into him again! Yeah, that’ll work because we’re the only two fucking people to ever ride the tube and I am sure he will be doing the same thing! GOD DAMMIT!_

Thorin finally reached the cafe but his mind was not on the meeting; he secretly wished he would be stood up and he could have an excuse to just keep searching for the cute guy.

            _London_ _wasn’t that big, right? It will only take me … what? Thirty YEARS to knock on every fucking door?!_ Thorin suddenly remembered that movie, 'Love Actually', where Hugh Grant's character went door-to-door, looking for the girl he liked.  Thorin would have laughed had it not been so fucking close to his reality. 

As Thorin stood at the front of the cafe, the hostess walked over.

            “Hello there,” the young girl asked.

            “Hello,” Thorin said. “The name’s Durinson, I have a reservation.”

            “Oh, yes,” the girl replied, looking at the list. “Table for two. There's a note for you, by the way.”

            The hostess handed Thorin a folded piece of paper and he already knew what it would say.

            _Of course. Grey canceled.  Again. Fucking old coot._

            Apparently Mister Grey had something come up unexpectedly, but he hoped Thorin enjoyed his meal and had a wonderful night.

            _How does he know I’m going to stay and or have a wonderful night when I have been stood up like a teenager on a blind date! Meddling old fool._

“If you want to follow me,” the girl said, “I will show you to your table.”

            For a second Thorin thought about just telling the girl no and walking out but fuck it, he was here, he was hungry and he might as well have dinner, even if he was alone and would rather be looking for his little blond teddy-bear. Thorin was led to the back of the restaurant. It was a nice place, not too fancy but at least it was quiet and Thorin figured he could think of ways to look for the guy from the tube.

            He had just opened the menu and was looking over the choices when he suddenly felt someone behind him. Before he could turn, soft hands wrapped around his head and covered his eyes. Instinctively, Thorin reached up touched the hands covering half his face; they were as soft on the top as the palms were and he noted that, while they were smaller than his, they were still nicely proportioned.

            “Guess who,” a smooth voice cooed in Thorin’s ear.

            _This can’t be! This can’t be happening! It can’t be him! Can it?_ “I have no idea,” Thorin replied quietly.

            “Yes you do,” the voice whispered in Thorin’s other ear, and then he felt the ghost of lips on his earlobe.

            “I don’t know your name,” Thorin said. _But I want to know it and so much more!_

The hands released their hold and Thorin turned his head as the beautiful blond guy from the train walked around from behind him.

            “I’m Bilbo,” The blond said, holding out his hand. “Bilbo Baggins.”

            “Thorin,” Thorin said, almost in a daze, as he shook Bilbo's hand.  “Thorin Durinson; at your service.”

            Even in the dim light, Thorin could see Bilbo blush with his last statement.

            “May I join you?” Bilbo asked quietly, indicating the chair to Thorin’s right.

            “If you can read my mind,” Thorin quipped with a cocked eyebrow. “You know the answer.”

            But Bilbo was already taking the chair before Thorin finished speaking.

            _If you can really read my thoughts; cough._

            Bilbo covered his mouth with the back of his hand and coughed.

            _Fuck me five ways to Sunday._

            “Did you know where I was going from my ...” Thorin tapped his head. “Or did you simply follow me?”           

            Bilbo looked down at his lap for a moment before looking back up and directly at Thorin with a cheeky smile. “I may have … _walked_ in the same direction as you … just to see if what we shared on the train was … more than … random thoughts.”

            Thorin just shook his head but his smile spread. _Bloody hell, he's fucking cute! And I have a feeling this is the start of something wonderful._

“Yes,” Bilbo said, letting his smile spread. “I think it is too.”

           

 

 


	2. Random Facts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Facts can lead to some surprises!

* * *

 

 

            Thorin took a sip of wine and marveled to himself. _How the hell can he eat so much and still be so fucking cute and adorable?!_

            Bilbo didn’t even look up to answer. “Because all the Bagginses are known for their incredible metabolisms.”

            _Jesus fucking Christ. I’m never going to get away with dick when we’re together._

“Probably not,” Bilbo said, looking up from his plate of pasta.

            Thorin let out a little growl of frustration but the grin on his face said enough; he wasn’t angry at all. “It’s totally unfair. You realize this, don’t you?”

            Bilbo smiled brightly and nodded.

            Thorin shook his head and sighed. “It must've been a nightmare having you around when you were young.”

            Bilbo was perplexed. “I’m sorry?”

            “Your parents,” Thorin clarified. “I bet they couldn’t keep anything a secret from you. You probably knew what all your Christmas presents were before they were even wrapped!”

            Bilbo laughed softly. “It didn’t work that way.”

            “So ... what?” Thorin was intrigued. “Were they immune to your powers?”

            “No,” Bilbo said slowly, drawing out the word a bit. “I just mean that I never had this ‘power’ until very recently.”

            “How recent?”  Thorin was intrigued.

            Bilbo shrugged, a shy smile playing on his lips, but he didn’t meet Thorin’s gaze. “Well … since the moment you stepped on the train.”

            _You're fucking joking!_

 _“_ No. No joke.”

            _Jesus H. Christ! Seriously? What the hell?!_

“Do you want to hear the story?” Bilbo asked with a smirk.

            “Yes.”

            “Or do you want to continue to swear silently?”

            “YES!  I want to hear the story … you … maddening creature!” Thorin barked out good-naturally in a way that made Bilbo giggle.

            “Well,” Bilbo said leaning forward like he was going share a juicy bit of gossip. “I once asked my mum why she always made my dad her famous blue cheese scones—” Thorin quickly looked incredibly confused, but Bilbo only held up a hand for patience. “Mum said she always made them, because the first time they met, he'd told her he wanted to taste her cheesy scones.”

            “ _Taste her cheesy scones?!_ Christ,” Thorin said smirking. “I hope that isn’t an old-person metaphor for oral sex or something.”

            That made them both laugh.

            “No, thank goodness,” Bilbo said when he got himself under control. “Now, I already knew that they met on a bus ride from Hobbiton … my hometown, to the neighboring village of Bree.  She was traveling to see her uncle and had a basket filled with cheese scones.  So, needless to say, I was shocked, as a thirteen-year-old would be, that my father of all people would have just blurted out and told a perfect stranger, regardless of the fact that the stranger would end up being my mother, that he wanted to taste her snacks!”

            Thorin chuckled before adding dryly, “Still sounds like a filthy metaphor to me.”

            “Stop it!” Bilbo said as he starting giggling, which made Thorin’s heart beat faster.

            _Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you laugh like that!  
_

Bilbo blushed at Thorin’s thoughts.

            _I know you can hear me and I meant what I thought._

“I know you do,” Bilbo said gently as he gave Thorin a soft smile.

            Thorin returned the smile. “Go on with your story.”

            Bilbo sighed and continued.  “Mother just laughed off my surprise.  She assured me that my father had not embarrassed himself or her by stating it out loud but that she had, in fact, heard his thoughts in her head.”

            “Sounds vaguely familiar,” Thorin quipped, earning him a dimpled smile from Bilbo.

            “Naturally,” Bilbo said, “I was even more shocked to hear that my mother had psychic abilities and asked her to read my mind ... to which she informed me that she had no such abilities at all.”

            “Yeah,” Thorin said leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table’s edge. “Now I am totally fucking confused.”

            “So was I,” Bilbo stated. “At first.” Bilbo reached up and from around his neck he pulled a delicate silver necklace out of his shirt and there, suspended at the end, was a large beautiful, marquise cut Amethyst, set in delicate silver filigree.

            Thorin whistled. “That’s gorgeous.”

            Bilbo gave one nod of thanks. “According to my mother, this has been in the family for countless generations. No one knows how long, really, and no can tell me how old. The last jeweler I took it to said that while the setting was definitely early Victorian, the gem itself was cut at a much, much earlier time.”

            As Thorin looked closer, he could see that it was roughly cut, not like a modern cut gem but something ancient and a bit mysterious.  No wonder why it was considered much older than the setting. “And no one in your family has a clue where it came from?”

            Bilbo shook his head.  “According to family legend,‘ _Once upon a time’_ , there was a great king of a foreign land and who fell in love with a Baggins ancestor. So in love was the king, he mined and cut the stone himself so he could present it to his consort ... then all the world would know of his great love for his husband.”

            “His _husband_?” Thorin asked wide-eyed.

            Bilbo nodded seriously. “The legend specifically states that the King fell in love with one of my _male_ ancestors.”

            “Wow.” _Who knew_ , Thorin thought. “So, how does this play into your _‘powers.’_ ”

            Bilbo giggled at the term. “Well, the legend further states that when the stone was given, although the king was brave and strong, he could not say in words how much he loved his spouse.  However, because so much emotion had been poured into the crafting of the jewel when the consort put the stone on, he could hear the king’s thoughts and he knew how much he was loved.

            “Now, as the years progressed, the king still could not speak of his love, out loud.  Again, not because the king didn’t feel it, for the consort knew how much the king adored him, but because the incredible love the king felt overwhelmed him and he believed that words alone were not enough to describe it.

            “Finally, as the king reached a great age, and lay upon his deathbed, his dying words to his husband were, ‘I love you’, and as the king passed, the consort took off the stone and never wore it again.”

            “Holy fuck,” Thorin was completely mesmerized by this time. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

            “Ah, but wait,” Bilbo said, holding up a hand again. “The story does not end there. The mighty king and his consort, obviously, never had children of their own, so, upon the consort’s death, the great jewel was bequeathed to a young female cousin and she wore the necklace thereafter in honor of the great love the king and consort shared. As fate would have it, at the moment she met her true love, she heard his thoughts in her head.  From then on, each owner of the stone has worn it to find their one and only love, and the gem has continued to be passed down … back and forth … until it finally came to my mother who, in turn, bequeathed it to me on my eighteenth birthday.”

            It was an amazing story and, whether true or not, Thorin couldn’t help but find it fascinating. Of course, it begged a question to be asked.

            “So tell me, Mister Baggins,” Thorin whispered as he leaned forward a bit more, a soft smile playing upon his lips, “am I your one and only love?”

            Bilbo ducked his head but not before Thorin saw a blush upon Bilbo’s cheeks.

            _Are you sure it was the king that feared to say aloud his feelings and not your Baggins ancestor?_ Bilbo still didn’t answer but Thorin watched as the blush blossomed over Bilbo’s face and even his ears turned a lovely shade of red.   _You’re even beautiful when you’re shy._  Thorin reached out and gently stroked Bilbo's cheek with the back of his fingers, before withdrawing his hand.   _You don’t have to be coy with me._

            Several long seconds passed before Bilbo took a deep breath and looked at Thorin in earnest. “It’s only a story,” Bilbo said quietly, clenching his hands together on the table. “You aren’t … obligated or … trapped.”

            Thorin stared into Bilbo's eyes but he didn’t like what he saw; there was a  _pained_ look in the smaller man’s eyes and something fierce and protective rose up in Thorin’s chest like a great dragon.   _Not once, during this entire experience, have I ever felt that way, Bilbo._ Thorin shook his head in emphasis. _I can’t even fathom that I would ever feel that way towards you. It's far from an obligation ... far from a trap ... in fact, I feel free ... it’s been an honor being with you tonight._

Bilbo smiled sweetly as a single tear rolled down his face. Without hesitation, Thorin reached out with both hands, covered Bilbo’s clenched hands with his left, while he used his right to tenderly wipe the tear from Bilbo's cheek.  Thorin didn't know what was happening between them, but it was beautiful and precious, and even if he could stop it, he wouldn't.

            “Who knew,” Thorin said teasingly, hoping to bring the bright light back into Bilbo’s eyes. “That when that old-codger, Grey, canceled our dinner meeting, I would be so happy that he did.”

            Bilbo’s eyes went wide and he looked at Thorin, stunned. “Grey?! Do you mean Gandalf Grey?!”

            Thorin felt his stomach flip. “You fucking _know_ Gandalf?!”

            Bilbo nodded slowly.  “He asked me to meet him here for dinner tonight, but he canceled at the last minute!”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amethyst information - http://psychiclibrary.com/beyondBooks/gemstones-psychic-abilities


	3. Random Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf so loves to meddle ...

* * *

 

 

            Many people told Bilbo that he was ‘cute’ or ‘adorable’ and, as much as he said he hated or loathed being called those things and that it annoyed him, a hidden part of him didn’t mind it. He especially wouldn’t have minded if there was a handsome guy that thought of him as such, anyway.

            Somehow, his mother seemed to know all that. She said it was a mother’s love that gave her the insight. His father would laugh and swear it was witchcraft. But Bilbo knew the truth; his mother was a telepathic alien.

            “Some day, pet,” Belladonna said, as she perched on the edge of Bilbo’s bed, the morning of his eighteenth. “You’ll be going along one day, a day that will seem ordinary and dull and he will walk into your life and you will be changed forever.”

            He wanted to tell her that it would never happen.

            He wanted to scoff and say that it was all just a fairy tale.

            He wanted to quip that one could say the same thing if they ran into a serial killer.

            What he asked her, in an almost pleading voice, “Do you really think so?”

            Belladonna smiled softly, “I know so, darling.” She reached into her apron and pulled out a small gift. “Happy birthday, love.” She kissed his cheek, stood up and went back to the kitchen to continue making his birthday breakfast.

            Bilbo sat up straight and opened the little box, only to stare wide-eyed at the beautiful purple stone and delicate silver metalwork. He had secretly coveted the stone since his mother told him the story of meeting his father, but he never dared hope that she would give it to him. He slipped it around his neck, and while he tried to say later that it had been his imagination, at the time he swore he felt a shiver move through him as gem settled over his heart.

            For the rest of the day, whenever anyone _not_ of his family came within earshot, Bilbo would strain to see if he could hear their voice in his head. However, by the time his big party was well underway, and the only voice he heard in his head was his own laughing at him, he had already retreated out to the front garden for privacy.

            It was nothing but a silly story and there was no love and he would be alone forever because no one could possibly love a short, curly haired boy who did nothing all day but dream about romance and kings in shining armor who loved as fiercely as they fought and it was just hopeless.

            So lost in his thoughts, his mind barely registered the sound of a car pulling up to the curb behind him or the opening of one of said car’s doors. Until that is, he heard a voice—in his head!

            _Crazy old man! Just get out of the car and go. What a fucking git!_

Bilbo froze, he heard a voice and it wasn’t his own!

            He tried to get up but his legs were wobbly and tingly; they’d fallen asleep while he sat cross-legged on the ground. By the time he was able to stand, he looked over the trimmed hedges just as a long black car was pulling away and standing at the gate was none other than his mother’s old friend, Gandalf Grey.

            “Bilbo, my boy,” Gandalf said jovially. “Happy birthday!”

            “Hello, Mister Grey,” Bilbo replied, hoping for all world that the voice in his head wasn’t Gandalf’s!   Lord help him, he’d stay celibate for the rest of his life!

            “That’s quite the bobble you have there, Bilbo,” Gandalf said, nodding to the jewel resting on Bilbo’s chest and startling Bilbo out of his thoughts. Bilbo had been there when his mother had told Gandalf the legend of the stone. Strangely, Gandalf had acted like he had heard it all before.

            “Mum gifted it to me this morning,” Bilbo answered, looking down and gently holding it in his fingers.

            “You never know when you will hear your love calling you,” Gandalf said with a mischievous smile.

            Bilbo shrugged. _I think I just did. I think I heard something. I think he was insulting you actually. I think I’m probably losing my mind._ “I think that’s just a fairy tale.”

            “Nonsense!” Gandalf roared with mirth. “Love is everywhere. One just has to listen for it.” Gandalf winked.

            Bilbo hummed in pretend understanding, nodded and decided to change the subject. “Whose car did you come in?” It was obviously not a taxi.

            “Oh, that,” Gandalf said giving Bilbo a slightly narrowed look that made Bilbo squirm inside. “It was an old friend. I’ve been visiting Thrain and his family for the last week or so. He and his son were kind enough to drop me off on their way through town.”

            “Oh, that was nice of him,” Bilbo said, pushing for politeness.

            “Indeed,” Gandalf agreed before adding, “And his son is quite handsome—”

            “And I doubt he'd go for a short gnome of a guy,” Bilbo replied, knowing full well what Gandalf was doing.

            “One never knows. Young Thor—”

            “GANDALF!” Bungo’s booming voice filled the garden and stopped any further conversation. “It’s about time! Bella has been beside herself!”

            “Beside herself and sick with worry!” Belladonna supplied as she came out the door after Bungo.  "You're late!" 

            "I'm never late, Belladonna Bag—"

            "The hell you aren't!"  Belladonna snarked.  "Every damn time you come to visit!"  Belladonna laughed as both she and Bungo gave Gandalf a hug before Belladonna spotted Bilbo. “There you are, sweetling! Come back in and join your party!”

            Bilbo smiled and all talk of romance and Gandalf’s friend’s young son was forgotten. In fact, by the next morning, when Bilbo woke with a pounding hangover and mouth that tasted like he had actually been kissing his own arse, everything was forgotten. Why even the strange voice he had heard in his head was completely and forever forgotten.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            “I can’t fucking believe you know Grey!” Thorin said amazed.

            “He’s an old friend of my mother’s,” Bilbo said. “I want to say he guest lectured back in her uni days, or something, and they became fast friends. How do you know him?”

            “Christ,” Thorin said, shaking his head. “He was an old friend of my dad’s since I was a kid. Old fool.”

            Bilbo giggled. “He can be … eccentric?”

            “That’s you being generous,” Thorin said dryly, earning him another giggle he loved.

            “Yes, he’s odd,” Bilbo agreed. “But he’s been a good friend to me and he’s harmless.”

            “Harmless,” Thorin repeated. “If you don’t count my social calendar.”

            “What’s that mean?” Bilbo asked with a smile.

            “He cancels on me half the bloody time,” Thorin disgusted but amused. “And it’s almost always a Friday night when all I want to do is go home and kick back and watch the game in my pants!”

            Bilbo giggled and face-palmed. It wasn’t that he was shocked; the move was more to hide the furious blush at the very thought of Thorin sitting in nothing but his underwear, drinking a beer and totally turning Bilbo on in the best possible way!

            “So,” Thorin continued on, completely oblivious to Bilbo’s thoughts. “He stood you up tonight too.”

            “Yes,” Bilbo replied, grateful for the distraction of Thorin’s pants. “As a matter-of-fact, he was adamant about coming here; to the point of telling me exactly when to get on the tube!”

            “Me too!” Thorin said. “Old codger.” Thorin suddenly sat up straight. “You don’t think he was planning all this, do you? I mean, our meeting and all.”

            Bilbo shrugged. “Who can say? We were both supposed to meet him here and at the same time. But he never mentioned he was introducing me to someone or that someone else would even be here and he has certainly never mentioned your name to me. Not even in passing.”

            “He’s never mentioned you either,” Thorin said. _Although, I’m more pissed that he never told me about you than I am about him standing me up._

            Bilbo turned a bit pink. “Really?”

            “Really,” Thorin said quietly and quite seriously.

            Bilbo looked down at his lap once more but a smile played on his lips before he looked back up at Thorin. “Well,” Bilbo said, moving on before he said something he shouldn’t. “At least he didn’t send you off on holiday and stand you up!” They both laughed.

            “Don’t count on that,” Thorin replied when he calmed. “Fuck, somehow, he talked me into going to this past Glastonbury!”

            Thorin laughed until he saw that Bilbo wasn’t laughing at all.

            “What?” Thorin asked. _Did I just piss you off or something?_

Bilbo shook his head but sat gaping for a minute before saying quietly, “I was at this past Glastonbury as well.”

            “Are you fucking kidding me?”

            “No.”

            “Shut the fuck up! You were really there?!”

            “Gandalf insisted I needed to get away.”

            “You went because of the old man?!”

            Bilbo nodded, stunned.

            “Bleeding Christ on a Cross,” Thorin whispered. “He has been fucking setting us up.”

            Bilbo sat forward. “Wednesday. July twenty-third.”

            Thorin nodded. “I was to meet him for lunch.”

            “East end?”

            “Near St. Thomas’.”

            Bilbo let his head drop and shook it obvious disbelief.

            “I take it you were there,” Thorin said dryly, knowing the answer already.

            “My cousin, Drogo, and I own two antiquarian bookstores,” Bilbo said. “On July twenty-third, both he and my nephew, Frodo, were down sick. Drogo’s wife, Primula, who normally worked the bookstore with Drogo, kept them home and she stayed to care for them. I left my store in the hands of my assistant and I worked Drogo’s location that day.”

            “And let me guess,” Thorin offered. “It’s not far from St. Thomas’s hospital.”

            Bilbo shook his head. “Just around the corner, basically.”

            “Bloody hell,” Thorin swore. “I can just see it now. Meet him for lunch, and maybe pop into the bookstore on the way to the restaurant.”

            Once more, Bilbo nodded. It all made sense. “I guess this answers the question as to why he insisted I start wearing the pendant every day again.”

            “Again?” Thorin asked. “Did you not wear it daily?”

            Bilbo looked away, gazing out as if people watching but Thorin already knew Bilbo well enough to know that his adorable little teddy bear was hiding in plain sight from Thorin’s eyes; whatever Bilbo had to say was unpleasant, at least for him, and he was steeling himself to tell Thorin.

            “I didn’t wear for about four years,” Bilbo answered finally. “It’s only been in the last year that I put it back on, at Gandalf’s insistence no less.”

            “What happened?” Thorin asked, knowing that whatever it was, it wasn't going to make him happy.

            “I wore it daily after Mum gave it to me,” Bilbo answered. “At least, for several years. I ended up dating someone and ... although I hadn’t heard his voice in my mind, I thought ... I thought he could be the one for me. But he broke up with me on my twenty-fifth birthday—”

            “What a fucking arsehole!” Thorin was truly angry.

            “—so I took it off the next day,” Bilbo continued on. “I swore the story of the pendant was nothing but a stupid fairy tale ... that Ones didn’t exist ... that there was no point in wearing a dumb old rock around my neck, pretending it … it would bring me …”

            “The man of your dreams?” Thorin suggested.

            “Love,” Bilbo offered instead but still wouldn’t meet Thorin’s gaze.

            They sat in silence for a bit before Bilbo went on.

            “Anyway,” Bilbo said. “I put the necklace in a box and there it stayed, locked away.”

            _More like you locked yourself away._

            Bilbo didn’t respond in any way to Thorin’s thought; because it was true.

            _I’m glad you put it back on._

            “Me too,” Bilbo said, finally turning to Thorin; who was happy that a tiny bit of the bright light came back into Bilbo’s eyes.

            Their basking in each other’s eyes only lasted a few moments, however.

            “Hey there!” Came a chipper voice from one side and both Thorin and Bilbo turned to see a young man with ginger hair and a toothy smile coming towards them.

            “Ori!” Both Thorin and Bilbo said at the same time before their eyes snapped back to each other.  “You know Ori!?” Thorin and Bilbo both asked as they pointed a finger at the other.

            “Hey, Bilbo! Hi, Thorin!” Ori said cheerfully, coming up to the table. “I didn’t know you two knew each other?!”

            _This night is getting fucking weirder and weirder!_

“You can think that again," Bilbo mumbled.

 

 

 


	4. Random Connections

* * *

 

            _What … What the hell are you doing?! Stop! Don’t sit down! DON’T –_

Bilbo just giggled at Thorin as Ori pulled out one of the two empty chairs at the table and plunked himself down. Bilbo thought it was amusing; both how Ori was adorably oblivious to what was going on around him and how Thorin was seething on the inside while plastering a fake smile on his face.

            _You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, you little shit?_

Bilbo just smiled brightly at Thorin and would have batted his eyelids, but he figured he wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face if he went that far.

            “Oh, my God!” Ori said excitedly. “So how long have you two known each other? I mean, is it business or are you ... friends? Has it been a long time? Where did you first met? I can’t believe that neither of you said anything before now! What are the chances, we all three knew each other and have never known! What are the odds that—”

            “Ori,” Thorin shot out, cutting Ori off. “How do you know Bilbo?”

            “We have class together on Tuesday nights,” Ori answered.

            “Creative writing,” Bilbo added when he caught Thorin’s confusion. “At City Lit.”

            _Really? Are you wanting or planning on being a novelist or something like that?_

Bilbo took a sip of his wine and gently nodded so as not to draw Ori’s attention to the silent conversation, all the while Ori waxed poetic about their class.

            _Will you let me read your work?_

Bilbo blushed and looked away and made no acknowledgment of Thorin’s question.

            _What? Can't I read your stuff? Do you write smut or something?_

Bilbo’s blush deepened and he cleared his throat as he continued to avoid Thorin’s gaze, trying with all his might to pretend to be listening to Ori.

            _You do write smut! Bloody hell! Now, I really want to read it!_

“So,” Bilbo said to Ori, cutting his friend off. “How do you know Thorin?” If Bilbo’s voice sounded a tiny bit strained, Ori didn’t pick it up.

            But Thorin did.

            _Bloody smutty brilliant! Do you need help writing the sex scenes? Do you want me to go back over the things I was thinking about on the train? I would be more than happy to think them up again!_

“Thorin and I work at the bank together,” Ori replied, once more oblivious to the other conversation.

            _Mmm. Imagine doing it against the bank counter!_

“That’s … interesting,” Bilbo said, making every effort to avoid Thorin’s eyes and picking up his glass to take a drink.

            _I’d love to spread your arse and take you from behind—_

            “Yeah, we’ve worked together—”

            — _and slowly push my way in and fuck you—_

“—for a very long time.” Ori finished.

_—till you scream like a chimp on fire!_

Bilbo almost snorted his wine. Thorin just laughed.

            “Don’t do that when I’m drinking!” Bilbo snapped.

            _Have you any idea how utterly adorable and fuckable you are._

“That doesn’t matter,” Bilbo said but there was a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

            “What are you on about?” Ori asked, clearly sensing he was out of the loop.

            “Nothing,” Bilbo said, giving Thorin a raised eyebrow in warning, which only made the bearded man smirked even more. “Something private between Thorin and me.”

            _I’ve got something private I’d love to get between us._

            Bilbo blushed again and thanked many of the Gods that Ori picked up the verbal conversation once more.

            “So,” Ori said, cheerfully. “You never answered my question; how long have you two known each other?”

            “About three hours,” Thorin said, not taking his eyes off Bilbo.

            “We only just met on the tube,” Bilbo added, not able to look anywhere but at Thorin.

            “Really?” Ori seemed even more excited. “How fantastic is that?”

            “Very,” Bilbo and Thorin chorused at once.

            “But,” Bilbo asked, finally able to turn from Ori, “an even more important question is what brings you here?”

            “OH MY GOD!” Ori shouted, startling Bilbo and Thorin. “I didn’t tell you! Remember that story I wrote that our tutor thought was crap?”

            “The fantasy one?” Bilbo guessed.

            “Right,” Ori confirmed Bilbo’s suspicions. “Well, my brother Dori knows this guy that always comes into his tea shop and Dori let him read it and he told Dori that our tutor was dead wrong and that it was brilliant and he said to met him here tonight because he knew just the agent to get me in with, but he had to cancel at the last minute.”

            Thorin and Bilbo’s eyes snapped to the other.

            “What’s this man’s name?” Thorin thought he didn’t really have to ask.

            “Uhm—,” Ori dug into his satchel and fished out a scrap of paper. “A Mister Grey.”

            “Mister Grey,” Bilbo repeated dryly.

            “Gandalf Grey,” Thorin stated.

            “Have you heard of him?” Ori asked Thorin.

            “Sadly, yes,” Thorin answered.

            “Well, I hope this cancellation is just a fluke and not a sign that I should give up.”

            “Don’t give up,” Bilbo said quickly. “He’ll meet with you. I’m sure.”

            “I guess your right,” Ori said to Bilbo before his face totally dropped and a lightbulb seemed to go off inside his head. “Oh, Lord! Is this a date?”

            Thorin sighed and rolled his eyes. “Well spotted, Ori.” Bilbo just smirked.

            Ori blushed furiously. “I’m so sorry!” He blurted out. “I just thought you were friends! I didn’t realize … I mean, I’m … I’m so sorry!”

            “It’s …” Bilbo gave Thorin a quick smile. “It’s okay.”

            “I was so focused on meeting Mister Grey,” Ori sputtered out. “I just didn’t think—”

            “I think that’s obvious,” Thorin quipped.

            “I’m so sorry!” Ori started gathering his things.

            “It’s okay, really,” Bilbo insisted.

            “What kind of person interrupts a date?” Ori was cringing now.

            “A total tosser, apparently!” came a deep but amused voice from behind them all.’

            “Ah, Fuck,” Thorin ground out.

            Bilbo and Ori turned their attention to the voice and had two totally different reactions.

            “What do you know, you great oaf!” Ori spat out indignantly.

            “Mister Fundinul!” Bilbo said with a smile.

            “HOW DO YOU KNOW DWALIN?!” Thorin and Ori both said with matching sneers.

            “He comes into the bookstore all the time,” Bilbo answered as if it was common knowledge and widely known.

            “Who knew he could read?” Ori quipped with a smirk.

            “Who knew you weren’t dead above the neck?” Dwalin shot back as he took the last empty chair at the table.

            “Oh, no!” Thorin announced. “You aren’t fucking sitting down.”

            “Why not?” Dwalin said, quickly snagging the last bite of Thorin’s steak. “You invited the plonker to join you.” Dwalin sent a nod in Ori’s direction.

            “Piss off you git!” Ori said with a sneer that only made Dwalin laugh.

            “Git?,” Dwalin easily shrugged off the insult. “That’s rich coming from a little muppet!”

            “Muppet?!” Ori was beside himself. “As if a toilet-trained gorilla with a brain to match is any judge!”

            “Toilet-trained Gorilla?” Dwalin smirked. “Is that you hinting you wanna size me up in the loo?”

            Ori made the most disgusted noise possible. “You’re a pig!”

            Dwalin oinked like a swine while Ori wrinkled his nose.

            “Wanker,” Ori sneered.

            “Twit,” Dwalin countered.

            “Knob.”

            “Berk.”

            “Enough!” Thorin stated then released with a long-suffering sigh. “Jesus Christ, you two need to get a room.”

            Both Dwalin and Ori horrified. “Sod you!” “Like I’d want some tosspot like him!” “He’s nothing more than a gormless prat!” “Who you calling a prat, you shiver?!”

            “Stop!” Bilbo spat out, bring the arguing pair to silence. “Seriously, enough already.”

            Just as Dwalin opened his mouth to fling a retort at Ori, Thorin put his foot down.

            “Strangely,” Thorin groused, “this was a private dinner before you two showed up, so please, don’t let Bilbo or I keep you.”

            “Strangely,” Dwalin said mockingly, “I want to know why you two are having a private dinner in the first place.”

            “That’s none of your—” Thorin began

            “They met on the tube this evening,” Ori finished.

            Thorin sighed. _I just can’t fucking win for losing!_

“Is that what I am; a loss?” Bilbo asked quietly.

            Thorin was clearly horrified. “No! Oh God, No! It wasn’t meant … I mean, I didn’t mean … I just … What I wanted to say—”

            “What’s wrong with you?” Dwalin asked.

            “Nothing,” Thorin shot out before looking at Bilbo, worried. _I swear, I didn’t mean it like that! That is so far from what I meant and I would never—_

“I’m teasing you,” Bilbo said softly with a smile to match.

            “What’s going on?” Dwalin asked, clearly picking up on something going on between Bilbo and Thorin.

            “Leave them alone,” Ori gave Dwalin a narrow glare. “You wouldn’t know romance if it bit you on the arse.”

            “You can kiss my arse,” Dwalin sneered.

            “I have better taste than that,” Ori with a smirk.

            “So, you finally admit you want to taste my arse,” Dwalin commented.

            “STOP!” Thorin shouted and that brought a quarter of the café to a stand still.

            It was a minute or two before the four of them were able to meet each other’s gaze and ignore the looks from everyone else.

            “If you both really want to know the truth,” Bilbo started, grabbing the attention of the other three completely.

            _Wait, are you really going to tell them the truth?!_

Bilbo looked at Thorin’s wide eyes and simply raised an eyebrow.

            _Is that your way of trying to get rid of them? Freak them out?_

Bilbo smiled and took a sip of his wine, which got Thorin laughing.

            _Go for it!_

“So,” Dwalin asked looking from Thorin to Bilbo, “what is the truth?”

            Now that he had Ori and Dwalin’s undivided attention, Bilbo took a breath and replied, “Well, once upon a time …”

            Bilbo wove the tale of the king and consort once again, expanding it just a bit and making it a little more dramatic than when he told Thorin. He told of receiving the gem and what it had done for various other members of his family. Finally, Bilbo admitted being on the train, having Thorin step on, and then reading Thorin’s thoughts. He even pulled out the jewel and showed it to the other two.

            “That story’s so romantic,” Ori said with a sigh.

            “That story’s such bullshit,” Dwalin smirked.

            “You haven’t a romantic bone in your body!” Ori shot out at the bigger man.

            “I gotta bone you can be romantic about,” Dwalin said smugly.

            “Git!”

            “Prat.”

            “Stop,” Bilbo said quietly, placing a hand on Ori’s arm. “Just ignore him.”

            Ori shot one more ‘fuck-off’ look to Dwalin before turning to Bilbo. “Do you really think it was the stone?” Ori asked eagerly.

            “That’s the legend,” Bilbo replied with a little shrug.

            “Can I try it?” Ori inquired.

            Bilbo didn’t know what to answer to that; no one outside the family had ever worn the gem, as far as he knew. But what was the harm? “I guess so.”

            As Bilbo reached up to take off the necklace, Thorin sat up a bit straighter. “You sure about that?” Thorin asked with a touch of concern.

            “It’s okay,” Bilbo answered, sounding more confident than he felt. “I mean, what can go wrong?”

            Two very odd things happened in quick succession. As Bilbo removed the necklace, he felt a sudden constriction and a wave of nausea.   When he looked at Thorin, it was if the man was a wooden mannequin; Thorin felt far away as if he was miles and not mere feet from Bilbo. Or better yet, Bilbo felt like he was standing in the middle of a snow-covered field, without a single living thing near him; it made him shiver to the bone, and there was no Thorin in his head to comfort him.  Ori, on the other hand, had a far different experience. As the great stone settled over his heart, he swayed a little and he actually put a hand on the edge of the table to steady himself. It seemed to pass quickly, and as Ori opened his eyes, they seemed a tiny bit bigger and brighter.

            “Anything?” Bilbo asked, his nausea slowly receding. “It may not work. What are the chances your guy is right here in this room?”

            Ori nodded in understanding. He took a deep breath and looked around the place but then instantly froze. As the other three watched, Ori’s eyes got bigger, a look of shocked settled on his countenance and the color drained from his face.

            Bilbo grew worried. “Ori, are you okay?”

            When Ori didn’t answer, Thorin tried. “Ori. Say something.”

            Ori then shook his head like a horse shaking off flies. “I’m fine. It’s fine.” Ori whipped off the necklace and pressed it back to Bilbo. “Like you said; nothing.” But Ori wouldn’t meet anyone’s gaze.

            “Ori, are you sure you’re okay?” Bilbo knew Ori well enough to sense a lie.

            “Yep,” Ori said, immediately gathering his things. “I’ve just remembered I need to … to, uhm … be somewhere … else.” Ori stood and turned to Bilbo. “I’ll see you Tuesday—” then turned to Thorin, “I’ll see you on Monday—” then turned to Dwalin and stilled. “I’ll, uhm … I’ll …” Ori held up both hands like he was holding up a wall, and after a few silent seconds, said to Dwalin, “I’ll just … just, see you … around.”

            Then Ori just wasn’t there.

            “What the hell?” Thorin asked, looking at the other two.

            Both Bilbo and Dwalin shrugged, but then, the bigger man’s eyes grew huge and he made a slight, choked sound.

            “Fuck!” Dwalin said and quickly stood. “ORI! Ori, wait!”

            And then Dwalin was just gone.

            “What the fuck just happened?!” Thorin asked looking in the direction that Dwalin had fled after Ori.

            Bilbo shrugged again as he put the necklace back over his head. A sudden swirl of emotions, a slightly dizzy feeling, the sensation of the world expanding and then … oh thank God; there was Thorin.

            _You alright, babe?_

“Yes, I’m fine,” Bilbo said relieved sigh. “Would you like to go somewhere else and have dessert?”

            “Sure,” Thorin agreed.

            “I know this great little place,” Bilbo offered shyly.

            “What’s the name?”

            “My flat,” Bilbo blushed.

            Thorin slowly nodded and gave Bilbo a warm smile. “Sounds perfect.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **British Slang (for us clueless Americans)**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Berk – Idiot  
> Git – Moron, Idiot  
> Gormless – Complete lack of common sense  
> Knob – Dick  
> Muppet – Dimwit (not the puppet variety)  
> Plonker – Idiot  
> Prat – Idiot, asshole  
> Skiver – Lazy sod  
> Tosser – Supreme Asshole or jerk.  
> Twit – Idiot  
> Wanker – Idiot
> 
> \-----------
> 
>  **Scream like a chimp on fire**  
>  (UK) Noise made, normally by a woman, when in a state of sexual excitement. The sound is similar to that made by chimp when on fire. (Believe it or not, this is an actual saying in the UK.)


	5. Random Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short little chapter - Because so many wanted to hear about Dwalin and Ori ...

* * *

 

 

            He pushed his way through the crowd but he didn’t see anyone, not really. He just wanted to get away; he _had_ to get away! He should never have done it. He should have just left well enough alone. But oh no, no, not him. He had to go and fuck it all up. Just like he always did. Either he did something stupid, like interrupt his only real friend and his co-worker while they were on a date, or he opened his mouth and said everything wrong!

            “ORI!”

            He picked up his pace. He hoped that if he could get more people between him and Dwalin, then he could just disappear. That was the best. Yeah. And he was sure that once he had disappeared, Dwalin would just forget the whole thing.

            He was sure of it.

            “Ori! Wait!”

            He was almost running now, or at least he would if he could get the crowds out of his way. He dodged and wove his way around and through the throng, looking this way and that, hoping for a clearer, more direct route of escape. He just needed to cross the street—

            There was a blast of a horn and Ori froze like the deer in the highlights he actually was and for that split second as the bus barreled down on him, he wondered if it would hurt as he died.

            Strong arms grabbed and yanked him back onto the pavement just as the bus shot past and Ori felt his hair move in the petrol-fumed slipstream of the double-decker. He was shaking and numb and barely felt the hands that held him turn him around to face his savior.

            “Fucking Christ, Ori,” Dwalin breathed out, his ragged breath matching Ori’s. “Are you okay?”

            Ori could just about draw breath and had none to spare to speak so he nodded, his body racked with tremors.

            “Why did you run off?” Dwalin asked quietly so only Ori could hear.

            “I had to … had to …” Ori didn’t know what he had to, he didn’t know anything, nothing, except—except, “Oh, God! Oh God, I did even see that bus! Oh, God!”

            Ori was engulfed in strong arms and he could do nothing but melt into Dwalin’s chest, and as he drew another shaky breath, Ori began to sob uncontrollably at the realization that he was almost hit by a bus, that he almost died right in front of the man he loved, the same man that hated him.

            At least, he always thought Dwalin hated him.

            Ori barely registered that Dwalin was pulling them both into a nearby alcove; a doorway to a closed shop. Dwalin turned them both so that Ori was now in the corner, completely blocked, safe, and protected from the world beyond. Eventually, Ori’s crying stopped and his breathing evened out, as did Dwalin’s, and finally, Ori came around as he felt Dwalin run a large, warm hand slowly up and down his back while the other held Ori close to him.

            “Why did you run?” Dwalin whispered against the background noise of the street behind them.

            “I had to, uhm …”

            “Why did you run _from me_?” Dwalin asked more precisely.

            Ori began to tremble again, but this time, it was a totally different type of fear.

            “Why did you run from me, Ori?” Dwalin wasn’t giving up.

            Ori tried to speak, he tried to get something out but each time he opened his mouth, he choked on his words.

            “What did you hear?” Dwalin was clearly trying a different approach. “When you put on the necklace, what did you hear?”

            Slowly, Ori found the words before rasping out, “I heard your voice inside my head.”

            Dwalin’s hand stopped for a second on Ori’s back. “And that disgusted you,” Dwalin said just above a whisper.

            “No!” Ori protested, before adding quietly, “But you hate me.”

            Dwalin tightened his arms around Ori, pulling the smaller man closer. “I’ve never hated you. Never. From the moment I met you, I … I wanted you.”

            Ori couldn’t take that in. He had known Dwalin since he was twenty and Ori liked the burly guy from that very first time as well. “But you were always so … uncomfortable, so stand-offish around me,” Ori stated, confused. “Nori used to tell me that you hated weak people and you probably saw me as a weakling and a manky wanker.”

            Dwalin swore under his breath. “I’m fucking going to kill that brother of yours.”

            Ori wouldn’t argue that point. “You really liked me?” Ori asked.

            “Yeah,” Dwalin stated flatly. “You know why I was so uncomfortable? You were Nori’s kid brother and I fancied you! But he even before I met you, he used to tell me that you didn’t like guys like …” Dwalin huffed out a laugh and repeating Ori’s insult. “A ‘ _toilet-trained gorilla with a brain to match_.’”

            Ori groaned and sniffled, he was going to kill his brother himself, right after he killed himself for insulting Dwalin. “That was a terrible thing to say. I didn’t mean it, I swear I didn’t! I didn’t mean any of the things—”

            “I know you didn’t,” Dwalin assured him. “I’ve never meant a word, either.”

            “How did we even get started saying those things,” Ori asked. He’d totally forgotten at this point; it was just their thing.

            “I don’t know,” Dwalin confessed. “I’ve truly been an idiot. I should have manned up and said something long ago. But then, I’d given up hope long ago.”

            Slowly, Ori wrapped his arms around Dwalin’s chest and slid his hands up to Dwalin’s shoulders so that he could pull them closer together; Dwalin didn’t stop him.

            “Come on,” Dwalin whispered. “Let’s get you home.”

            “You don’t have to do that,” Ori said, concerned for Dwalin. “You live all the way across town; it’s completely out of your way!”

            Dwalin smiled; obviously not unhappy to know that Ori knew where he lived. “I want to; let me take you home.”

            Both men were completely aware of the innuendo in that statement, but at that moment neither cared.

 

 

 


	6. Random Experiments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexy times ...

* * *

  

            It was a fine night, so after taking the tube back only most of the way, they decided that having a bit of walk would be nice. Thorin did his best to keep his thoughts to himself but it was hard.

            _You’re lovely in the moonlight, by the way._

“Thank you,” Bilbo said quietly.

            Thorin could almost hear the blush in Bilbo’s voice. He also felt that it was teasing for him to continue to think things like that, so he decided they needed a bit of verbal distraction.

            For now.

            “So,” Thorin asked casually. “You and Ori go to school together.”

            “Yes,” Bilbo said before correcting himself. “Well, actually it’s just one class.”

            “Oh, right,” Thorin nodded, remembering. “Creative writing.”

            “You were right before,” Bilbo added.

            “What? About you writing smut?”

            Bilbo giggled. “I want to be a writer, a published writer. But, I’ve been practicing by writing a good deal of slashy fan fiction.”

            “Writing _what_?”

            “Long story; I’ll explain later.”

            “I’ll hold you to that.”

            “What about you and Dwalin?” Bilbo said, changing the subject. “How do you know each other?”

            “We’re cousins,” Thorin answered.

            “Oh, really?” Bilbo sounded surprised. “Close?”

            “Close emotionally? Yes,” Thorin said. “Close genetically? Sort of. He’s my first cousin, twice removed … if I’m getting it right.”

            “So …” Bilbo contemplating Thorin’s words. “His grandfather and you were first cousins?”

            Thorin laughed. He knew he got all that wrong. “No,” Thorin replied. “My grandfather and his grandfather were brothers.”

            “Ah,” Bilbo clearly had it then. “Second cousins. No removal.”

            “Whatever you say,” Thorin shrugged. “Our family has never been into that sort of thing. But either way, he’s a pain in my arse and I want to punch him in the face more often than not.”

            “That’s just proof you’re emotionally close,” Bilbo said with a giggle.

            Thorin laughed a little as well. “He probably feels the same way about me, but to be honest, either of us could call the other in the middle of the night and all we’d need to know is where to go and how much money to bring.”

            Bilbo threw back his head and laughed at that. “Called you from jail once or twice, did he?”

            “I’ll only say this,” Thorin smiled. “In our younger days, you could have asked that of either of us and we’d both answered yes.”

            “Naughty boys,” Bilbo chided, but in an amused way.

            Thorin just shrugged; he wasn’t going to deny that he had lived life to its fullest before.

            Bilbo suddenly stopped with a small gasp. “What a minute! Are you the one he buys all Royal Biographies and histories for?”

            “Balin,” Thorin answered with a crocked smile.

            “Excuse me?”

            “His brother, Balin,” Thorin clarified. “He’s the devotee of the Royal line.”

            “Ah, then you must be war guy.”

            Thorin laughed at that. “I like to think of myself as a military enthusiast, but I’ll take war guy.”

            Bilbo laughed in that always made Thorin smile.

            “Well, I have to say,” Bilbo said a slight tilt of his head. “You and Dwalin don’t look much a like except the nose and maybe the shape of the eyes, but certainly not the color. His eyes are deep green while yours are that beautiful, cool blue.”

            Thorin wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Part of him loved that Bilbo liked his eyes, while another part was not the last bit happy that Bilbo noticed Dwalin’s eye color; at all.

            “Don’t be jealous,” Bilbo remarked.

            “I didn’t think that,” Thorin said defensively. _It might be true but I didn’t think that._

            “No you didn’t,” Bilbo confirmed. “But your emotions came through loud and clear.” Yet, for the way the conversation had turned, Bilbo didn’t seem the least bit upset that Thorin was jealous.

            “So you’re empathic as well as a mind reader.”

            Bilbo rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I’m reading an emotionless text message,” he said. “I do get the emotions behind the words, but it’s not exactly empathy. And I _can’t_ read your mind.”

            “Oh, really?” Thorin huffed out a little laugh. “You’ve been doing a fine job so far.”

            Bilbo sighed. “Your mind isn’t a filing cabinet for me to rifle through. I get your thoughts but I can’t _read_ your mind.”

            “What the hell’s the difference?”

            Bilbo thought about that for a few long seconds. “It’s like this,” Bilbo began. “When you read a newspaper, you see the words and you read along. Correct?”

            “Right.”

            “And while you are reading, you are only vaguely aware of the paper the news is printed on. You hold it, you feel it, but it's just support for the words, you don’t consciously think about it. And as far as the rest of the news, until you turn the page, you have no idea what else is in the paper. That’s what it’s like.

            “Your thoughts are like the news print. I hear the words themselves. I hear you speak them in my mind. Your emotions are like the paper; I know they are there and I’m vaguely aware of them. But the rest of your mind is like the rest of the newspaper; until you ‘turn the page’ in your head, I have no idea what else is there.

            “And the reserve is the same. When you only think of something but don’t use words, then there is nothing for me to pick up _but_ your emotions. However, I still can’t go rifling through your brain. You have to turn the page in your mind.”

            “Right … okay,” Thorin seemed to understand. “But I have to ask then, are you saying that I can stop you from reading my thoughts?”

            “Yes … sort of,” Bilbo said. “Don’t think in words.”

            “That’s it?”

            “That’s harder than you think,” Bilbo said with a pointed look. “No pun intended.” Bilbo turned quickly and plucked something from a planter at someone’s front entry, then turned back to face Thorin, hiding whatever he got behind him. “I’m going to show you something and I want you to look at it but not think about it.”

            “Not think about it?” Thorin asked perplexed.

            “It’s like meditation,” Bilbo clarified. “You clear your mind, but in this case, you only have to clear it of words. Just look at the item but don’t think specific words.” Bilbo brought a small, white daisy from behind him and held it up for Thorin to see.

            _Right, don’t think about it, just look at it. It’s easy. Just don’t use words and block him. Piece of cake. He must think me a simpleton, if—”_

“I don’t think you’re a simpleton,” Bilbo said taking the flower away.

            Thorin instantly realized that Bilbo had no only answered him but, if he was correct, while he had been focused on the flower, Bilbo had been reciting all of Thorin’s words, his head-words, back at him.

            _Fuck. Now what?_

“We try again,” Bilbo answered. “Remember, no words. Let your emotions, do the actual thinking. Simply, _feel_.” Once again, Bilbo brought up the flower and held it out for Thorin to look at.

            _Right … no words … I can do this. It’s just a daisy, I can do … no words … no words … White … no words … Soft … no words … Daisy … Petals … no words … no words … no … … … no … …_

            Thorin was focused on the flower that he failed to feel the sweat break out on his forehead before he was suddenly gasping for breath; because he had forgotten to breathe.

            “Jesus FUCKING Christ!” Thorin said, trying to get as much air in his lungs as possible. “What the hell?”

            “You did well,” Bilbo said, dropping the flower and wiping Thorin’s brow with a handkerchief Bilbo had in his pocket. “Better than I thought. But you do have to remember to breathe. And relax.”

            “I want to try it again,” Thorin said determinately as he caught his breath.

            “You sure?” Bilbo asked gently.

            “Yeah,” Thorin was going to get this.

            “All right,” Bilbo turned back around, grabbed something and then spun back to Thorin. This time, he held up a clover.

            _Clover … Green … no words …_ _Ireland_ _… no words … no words … green … no words … no words … no … no … … …_

As he relaxed and continued to stare at the clover, Thorin let memories alone tell the story. He instantly recalled a trip to Ireland when he was young. Green fields and sunshine, white clouds and a gentle breeze blowing through his hair, laughter and running, running through a field filled with clover. He and his brother and his baby sister, being chased by his father and laughing, giggling and enjoying a warm summer day, his mother calling their names as they ran back around and headed to where she was standing, where she had the picnic food set out and it was lovely and it was beautiful and … and …

            _Beautiful … just like Bilbo … just like his laugh … I want to hear him laugh and ... and I’d love to go back there with him and run and make him laugh for me and ... and …_

Thorin had not realized that at some point, he had closed his eyes until he felt cool lips on his own and his mind went quiet and the images faded as Bilbo kissed him chastely right there on the sidewalk.

            Thorin’s mind became his own again as Bilbo pulled away and stepped back.

            “That was brilliant,” Bilbo said, smiling shyly and tossing the clover away.

            “It _was_ brilliant,” Thorin agreed, softly.

            “We should experiment more,” Bilbo said, starting to walk again, “another time.”

            “Oh,” Thorin shook his head a little and made to follow. “I thought you meant that kiss.”

            Bilbo blushed and didn’t meet Thorin’s eyes. “That was … well … the kiss was more than brilliant.”

            “Agreed,” Thorin said and silently took Bilbo’s hand in his own. He felt a little lightheaded and … giddy. He was holding hands with Bilbo like they were teenagers and yet, it didn’t bother him in the last bit. The way Bilbo squeezed his hand back, told Thorin that Bilbo wasn’t bothered either.

            “You never told me,” Bilbo asked. “When we were talking before, you never said why we didn’t meet on the twenty-third of July.”

            “I had to cancel at the last minute,” Thorin said. “Usually it was Grey that would stand me up, but we had an emergency at the bank and I had to stay.”

            “To think,” Bilbo said. “We could have met months ago.”

            Thorin hummed in agreement, mulling it over. _I could have had all this ages ago. Thank God I didn’t know then what I was missing out on.”_

Bilbo giggled. “I was thinking the same thing.”

            They walked on and their talk turned to their families. They came to realize that Thorin had grown up in Belegost, near the Blue Mountains, not but a few hours from Hobbiton; and Bilbo. In fact, Thorin remembered driving through Hobbiton with his family, whenever they went to London.

            “Here we are,” Bilbo said.

            Thorin looked up and saw that they stood in front of a beautiful, five-story Georgian townhouse. The bottom floor, though, was not a home.

 

_**BAG END BOOKS** _

 

 

            “But, this is your shop?” Thorin read the sign above the windows; BAG END BOOKS.

            “It is, but I live on upper two floors,” Bilbo supplied.

            “The landlord must love you,” Thorin commented, admiring the house and the beautiful black painted door. “He rents out three floors out to one person.”

            “Actually I have all the floors,” Bilbo stated quietly. “I am the landlord.”

            “You own the whole building?!” Thorin was amazed. _Who knew selling books could be so lucrative. Even rare and antique books._

Bilbo laughed a little. “It does pay well, but not what you think. You see, the house belonged to my father’s mother’s mother. When great-grandma died, she left it to Nana, who then left it to my father, and when he passed on, Mum signed it over to me. The book shop is on the ground floor and the front half of the second. The back part of the second has the bookshop office. Mum lives on the third floor and I have the forth and fifth floors for myself.”

            _Your mum lives on the middle floor? Oh shit! Didn’t expect that!_

“Don’t worry,” Bilbo said. “She is, unnervingly modern. It’s okay.”

            As if on cue, the front door opened and out stepped a lovely older woman with silver hair that was perfectly quaffed and dressed in a tailored dress with low heels.

            _That must be …_

“Mum!” Bilbo said incredulously. “Where on Earth are you going at this hour?”

            “This hour?” Belladonna Baggins said, walking up to Bilbo and Thorin. “It’s only a little after ten? I’m meeting Mira and Hildi at The Black Rider for drinks.”

            “A Pub?!” Bilbo stated, almost shocked. “At this time of night?!”

            “Oh good heavens,” Belladonna said with an epic eye-roll. “You’d think I was an old lady or something! I mean, I have lived a life. How do you think you came into this world?”

            Bilbo blushed five shades of red, causing Belladonna to laugh brightly.

            _I like your mum!_

Thorin’s comment earned him a scathing glare from Bilbo, which didn’t go unnoticed by Belladonna.

            “And who is this?” Mrs. Baggins said, flashing a smile at Thorin, and offering her hand out to the tall man.

            “Mum,” Bilbo said with a sigh. “This is Thorin Durinson.”

            “How do you do, Mrs. Baggins,” Thorin said, nodding his head and gently shaking Belladonna’s hand. “Bilbo’s told me much about you.”

            “Funny,” Belladonna quipped. “He’s not mentioned a thing about you to me. Not that I can blame him,” she said, giving Thorin a quick, but thorough, once over. “I can easily imagine why he’d want to keep you all to himself.”

            Thorin roared out a laugh.

            “Oh my, God,” Bilbo choked out. “I think it is time for you to go, Mum.”

            “What?” Belladonna said, confused, as Bilbo gently dragged her away, before adding quietly, “He’s very good-looking, sweetheart.”

            “Good-bye, Mum,” Bilbo said, still leading Belladonna away.

            “Just remember to use protection,” Belladonna offered seriously.

            “Mum, please!” Bilbo begged. “We’re only having tea.”

            “Tea tonight could lead to coffee in the morning,” Belladonna offered sagely in rather sing-song voice.

            “Good-night, Mum,” Bilbo said, hoping his mother would just vanish.

            “Good-night, dear,” Belladonna replied with a swift kiss to Bilbo’s cheek. “Don’t wait up. Although,” She added, with a quick look back at Thorin, “you might enjoy staying up to all hours tonight!” She winked at her son, before turning and walking away.

            _I really like your mum!_

“You would,” Bilbo said quietly.

            _She hilarious! You have to admit it._

“You may think that,” Bilbo answered, leading them up to the door and unlocking it. “But you try living above her.”

            Thorin waited for a beat or two before commenting, “That would mean I live with you too.” Bilbo froze. “Did you just ask me to move in?”

            Bilbo whipped around. “What?! Oh, my God, no! I just meant … I mean …”

            Thorin laughed. “Relax! I’m just teasing you.” Bilbo huffed out a sigh, while Thorin added silently, _Not that I would mind being with you …_

Bilbo stilled a moment but didn’t say anything else as he opened the door and lead Thorin up the stairs. They continued on to the top flat where Bilbo unlocked the flat door and let Thorin enter first.

            Thorin liked it. The walls were a warm, parchment color and the woodwork was all painted in a glossy black that looked good, not in the least bit morbid. There were several lamps; good for reading Thorin surmised. The whole place was cozy, with its overstuffed loveseat and two chairs set in front of the small fireplace. Naturally, there were books everywhere; in bookcases, on tables, on the coffee table, on the floor, in stacks and alone.

            “It’s not much,” Bilbo said, taking off his shoes, “but its home.”

            “It’s great,” Thorin said as he mimicked Bilbo and removed his shoes. _I feel really comfortable here._

“I’m glad,” Bilbo said just above a whisper.

            Thorin turned and smiled.

            Bilbo shuffled his feet, returning Thorin’s smile.

            Thorin gazed into Bilbo’s green eyes.

            Bilbo stared deeply into Thorin’s blue ones.

            They each drew a breath.

            They each felt their hearts beat once.

            Then they launched themselves at the other.

            They were all limbs and hands and lips and tongues. Thorin had been craving Bilbo’s mouth since the moment on the train when the smaller man had causally licked the tip of one finger to turn a page in his book. Bilbo, of course, had wanted to run his hands up Thorin’s chest almost from the moment his eyes fell on the handsome, imposing man as Thorin sat down across from him on the tube. Thorin had no direct words in his head beyond the occasional, _Oh, God!_ or _Fuck._ Bilbo couldn’t have spoken even if he wanted to; moans and pleading groans the only thing he was able to get out to convey his thoughts to Thorin.

            Soon they were fumbling with clothes, their mouths refusing to break the continuing kiss or be further than naught from each other. Thorin was pulling and yanking at Bilbo’s waistcoat and tee shirt while Bilbo struggled with Thorin’s shirt after easily removing the taller man’s tie.   Bilbo finally growled in frustration and simply grabbed the front of Thorin’s shirt and pulled in opposite directions, ripping the fabric and sending buttons flying across the room. Thorin didn’t give two shits about the damn shirt, not now that he finally had the _goddamned waistcoat_ off, and he took hold of the bottom of Bilbo’s tee shirt, broke their kiss for a second, then tugged the fucking shirt up and over Bilbo’s head. Bilbo did the same for Thorin’s undershirt.

            Thorin only took a second to admire the sight before him; Bilbo in only his jeans, naked from the waist up, his smooth skin as inviting as the two pink nipples that begged for Thorin to taste. The hesitation was over.

            Thorin wrapped his arms around Bilbo’s waist, drew the shorter man to him and then lowered his head so he could suckle a rosy nipple into his mouth; Bilbo moaned in pleasure. Bilbo wrapped his own arms around Thorin’s shoulders and tried to breathe as best he could. Thorin worked the nipple until it was tender and erect and then he kissed his way across Bilbo’s chest, which earned Thorin more whimpers and moans, before working over Bilbo’s other nipple until it too was moist and erect.

            Bilbo submitted through it all until he longed to taste Thorin’s mouth again. He wanted to feel Thorin’s powerful tongue dance with his own and he pulled gently to get Thorin to kiss him. Thorin didn’t need much encouragement, and as they kissed they both pulled the other closer, the feeling of Bilbo’s smooth chest, gathered and pressed firmly against the thick, pelted front of Thorin was a sensation that made both of them moan.

            However, the amethyst now pressed between them, touching both their hearts and as Thorin held Bilbo close, he felt a shiver move through him, his being stretched out and like a burst of bright sunlight, Bilbo’s sweet voice was there, in his mind.

            _Oh, God … never felt like this … is this what it feels like to have someone … does everyone have this?_

Thorin didn’t waste time to marveling at the experience; he simply answered.

            _No, Bilbo … few have this … I want you_

_Yes … take what you want_

_Only what you want to give_

_Then take all of me_

Thorin waited for no more invitation at that point. He reached down, pulling Bilbo up so that the smaller man could wrap his legs around Thorin’s waist, and somehow, Thorin knew exactly where to go.

            Up the stairs.

            The door to the left.

            Kick it open if need be.

            The splintering of the doorframe did not concern them and soon the mental bond was broken as Thorin put Bilbo down and they were fumbling for belts and buttons and zippers and waistbands.

            Thorin blindly swiping pillows off the bed.

            Bilbo throwing back the eiderdown onto the floor.

            Each of them enticing, guiding, pulling the other down onto the clean, soft sheets to lie together and through it all, their kisses continued and the gem moved around and touched them both, their thoughts became one.

            _I want you._

_I need you._

_I need this._

_Only this._

_Only you._

_Where have you been all this time?_

_Waiting for you._

_Looking for you._

_Longing for you._

_Yes … for you._

_Yes._

_To everything, yes._

 

 

 


	7. Random Doubts

* * *

 

            The world was white.

            And had a slight crack in it.

            Thorin blinked and took a deep breath. It took him a minute to process that he was staring at a ceiling. But it seemed a bit … off. Turing his head to the left, he realized that everything seemed strange because he was lying with his head at the _foot_ of the bed. He took another deep breath.

            _Where the fuck …_. _Oh yeah … Bilbo’s flat._

_Bilbo._

As Thorin turned his head to the right, there came a soft whimper from the beautiful blond man snuggled next to him. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight; Bilbo’s head on Thorin’s arm like it was a pillow, both arms tucked up between them for warmth and Bilbo’s leg’s wrapped around Thorin’s right so that there was very little of Bilbo not in direct contact with the heat that Thorin was well known to give off.

            _If this is bliss, I don’t want it to end._

Again, as if reading Thorin’s mind, Bilbo made a little moan and snuggled closer still.

            But at the moment, while Thorin didn’t want it to end, he had to end it. He needed something badly.

            The loo.

            Slowly extraditing himself from Bilbo, Thorin made sure to replace his arm with a pillow and he grabbed the eiderdown from the floor and threw it over Bilbo, who immediately burrowed himself down into the soft, plush quilt.

            Thorin stretched, quietly made his way to the bathroom, used the facilities, ran his fingers through his hair and rinsed out his mouth. As he walked back into the bedroom, he reached down and plucked his boxers from the heap of clothes on one side and made to wake Bilbo.

            But he froze.

            There, on the bedside table, lay the Amethyst, gleaming in the morning light.

            During their love making the connection had been … well, incredible as far Thorin was concerned. The stone touched both their chests at times, linking them and words were not needed for either to know how the other made them feel.

            But, afterward when they tried to sleep, twice the gem had gotten between them and they had woken during shared dreams. The first dream had been lovely. They were walking in a lush garden, dappled sunlight and buzzing bees everywhere; one could almost smell the heavy scent of blooming plants and grass in the air as they sat in the shade of an apple tree. They shared tender kisses, gentle touches, and caresses, until finally, their bodies woke up, needing release in the waking world. The second dream had been more … unsettling. There had been a great battle, and now, as Thorin lay upon a deathbed, the two of them had rushed confessions of love through the pain and tears. Thorin had shot up in bed, gasping for breath while Bilbo woke with tears in his eyes and Thorin’s name on his lips. At that point, it was decided that the gem needed to be set aside.

            Bilbo had been amazed and told Thorin afterward that he had no idea that anything like the shared link would happen or was even possible.  

            Yet, the tone of Bilbo’s voice let Thorin know there was more to that statement. There was something that Bilbo wasn’t saying. Thorin didn’t press; he simply vowed to ask Bilbo about it another time.

            Like this morning.

            The stone sparkled on the nightstand and he had an idea. Some part of him warned against doing it but it was too tempting. Thorin silently picked up the stone, holding it in his hands for just a moment. It was beautiful, no doubt, but Thorin could almost feel a slight vibrate to it like it contained a great power or was alive in its own way. Taking a slow breath in, Thorin made to slip the necklace over his head.

            “Thorin!” Bilbo’s cry made Thorin freeze. “What are you doing?”

            “I was …” Thorin said, looking down at the necklace now hanging limply in both his hands in front of him. “Just curious.”

            “Please don’t, ” Bilbo said. It almost sounded like a plea.

            Thorin turned to look at Bilbo and he could see that there was something playing in those green eyes he’d already come to adore. “What’s wrong?”

            “I … well … it’s just …” Bilbo’s stuttered out and then released a sigh. “It’s nothing, I just don’t think …”

            Thorin had placed the gem back on the nightstand and moved to sit on the bed next to Bilbo. “Bil,” Thorin said softly reach up and cupping Bilbo’s cheek and bringing the smaller man to silence. “It’s ok. I … understand. It’s not mine to mess with and I really shouldn’t have touched your things without asking. I’m sorry.”

            “It’s not that!” Bilbo rushed out. “I just don’t …”

            _Don’t think this is going to work out?_ Thorin wondered. Maybe that was why Bilbo didn’t want to have Thorin put the necklace on; he didn’t feel that Thorin would be around long enough for it to be an issue. Maybe Bilbo regretted their night together. _I’ve overstayed my welcome._ He remembered joking with himself yesterday that Bilbo was at least interested in a tumble. _Perhaps that’s really all Bilbo wanted in the end? Things can be different in the cold light of morning._

It made him a bit sick to think about; even a little hollow. He would’ve really liked to have more with Bilbo, but not everyone rushes into bed on the first date. There is always the risk that by doing so, one can ruin a good thing. Thorin was becoming resigned that he might have done just that.

            _I should have just waited. I should have just wished him goodnight and gone home and waited to see if he even wanted to see me again._

            “Look,” Thorin said, sitting back a bit and putting his hands on his knees. “I should go.” Thorin pushed himself up and made to look for his clothes.

            “Go?” Bilbo repeated like it was a foreign word.

            “Yeah, I should go,” Thorin said, pulling his pants on and buckling his belt.   _I shouldn’t mess this up any more than I have._ He reached down and grabbed his socks and shoved them in his pockets; he didn’t have to wear them to wear his shoes. He looked around the area quickly and then remembered that his shirts, jacket, and shoes were downstairs.

            “Thorin,” Bilbo said, starting to get out of bed.

            “I’m sure you’ve got things to do,” Thorin said, walking back a bit, heading for the door. “With the shop and all and have plans or something.”

            “Thorin,” Bilbo was reaching for his own shorts now. “You …”

            “It’s okay,” Thorin said, turning away and starting for the stairs. _God, I should just go because … “_ It’s a Saturday,” _… if I stay here much longer, looking at you …_ “you must have a million other things on your mind,” … _it already hurts thinking I might not see you again …_ “maybe plans with your mum.”

            Thorin took two steps down the stairs but he froze with Bilbo’s voice.

            “Thorin!” Bilbo insisted.

            Thorin turned back just as Bilbo stepped up to him and in one, quick move, lifted the necklace up and over Thorin’s head so that the great stone settled in the center of the taller man’s chest. Bilbo stepped back to wait.

            Thorin closed his eyes as he felt a bit dizzy like the stairs were moving and he reached for the banister to hold steady. It passed quickly but it was followed by the notion that he was everywhere in the flat at once, but that too settled, and just like the night before, there seemed to be a burst of sunshine as Bilbo’s thoughts reached him.

            _Can you hear me?_

_…_

_Thorin. Can you hear me?_

_…_

_Oh, Christ! Please tell me if you can …_

“I hear you,” Thorin said slowly opening his eyes.

            _Should I ask you to cough?_

Thorin laughed at that, but he raised his hand and made a mock cough, hoping Bilbo would laugh for him.

            Bilbo did.

            Thorin could only smile; when Bilbo laughed, all words in his head were gone but Thorin was filled with bright emotions that reminded him of hearing birdsong or feeling a cool breeze on his naked skin or touching silk; soft and beautiful. But Thorin could also feel something else, something just below the surface, something Bilbo was trying very hard to hide but Thorin got there in the end.

            “Why are you afraid?” Thorin asked.

            Bilbo stopped laughing.   _I wasn’t sure … I mean I heard last night … but, maybe it wasn’t …_

“What?” Thorin wanted to know. He had to know.

            _What if only I hear you?_

“I heard you last night,” Thorin said.

            _I know, but what if it was a fluke?_

“Would that be a bad thing?” Thorin felt like they were working towards something here.

            _You weren’t actually wearing the gem and …_

Thorin thought he knew now. “You heard me, but you weren’t sure I would hear you.”

            _Yes_

Then it dawned. “Because if I didn’t hear you, in my head …”

            _Then someone else would be …_

"My One,” Thorin finished quietly.

            _Yes._ Bilbo looked away, not able to meet Thorin’s eyes. _Please don’t look at me. I feel stupid and silly and, and …_

Thorin pulled Bilbo to him and pressed them close, the Amethyst between them now.

_I do hear you, Bilbo._

_I’m sorry, Thorin._

_Don’t be._

_I feel like an idiot._

_You aren’t._

_Stupid and silly._

_You aren’t any of those things to me._

_I was so scared that …_

_That I wouldn’t hear you._

_Yes._

_You were scared that I was your one …_

_I know you are_

_… but you weren’t mine._

_I was so afraid for you to use the stone and find out I was nothing to you._

_You are so much more to me than nothing._

_Thank you._

_For what, babe?_

_For being here._

_Nowhere else I want to be._

_Not even for breakfast?_

Thorin could help but laugh at that and Bilbo giggled and it suddenly all was better.

            “Here,” Thorin said, pulling back and taking the gem from around his neck. “We don’t need this right now.”

            “No,” Bilbo said, taking the necklace back. “We don’t.”

            There was a sudden but polite knock from the floor below, and then they both heard the front door open.

            “Bilbo, darling,” Belladonna called out.

            “I’m upstairs, mum,” Bilbo said, leaning over the banister. “I’m not dressed though.”

            “Well, hurry up,” his mother yelled out. “Breakfast is ready.”

            “Breakfast?” Bilbo looked over at Thorin and grimaced. _I wanted to take you out for breakfast,_ Bilbo mouthed, but Thorin shrugged.

            “Yes, I made breakfast,” Belladonna stated. “So hurry up before its stone cold.”

            _Shit,_ Bilbo mouthed. “I’ll be down in a minute, mum.”

            “Oh,” Belladonna sounded surprised. “Is Thorin not joining us?”

            Bilbo turned crimson while Thorin let out a laugh before answering, “I’ll be happy to join you for breakfast, Mrs. Baggins.”

            “Good,” She sounded happy to Thorin. “Nothing like sharing embarrassing stories of Bilbo while having breakfast.”

            “MUM!” Bilbo yelled out as Belladonna laughed brightly and shut the front door.

            “I like your mum,” Thorin said with a wink, heading downstairs.

            “Traitor,” Bilbo grumbled but was actually very happy.

 

 

 


	8. Random Gatherings - part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Belladonna!

* * *

 

            She'd always loved the idea of taking the bus to … _wherever_ , and seeing where the day took her. However, Belladonna Took didn’t always have an excuse to just _‘take off.’_

            But that day was different, it was perfect! She not only had the opportunity to visit her Uncle Dalco Chubb, who was staying in Bree for her mother’s birthday, but she could finally visit the city and explore; on her own!

            It was a warm, Thursday morning—at least for October. And she planned on visiting Dalco in the morning and then wandering the old historic area of the city in the afternoon. She figured she would present her uncle with a basket of her fresh made Stilton Scones—he always loved those—as a way to soothe any hurt feelings that might linger if he thought she was leaving too soon.

            She’d sat in the back of the bus, got out her book to pass the time, settled down with a content sigh and waited. It was just as she opened her book to read, that she heard him; in her head.

            _Not many places left ... Maybe something in the back would be more acceptable._

            He was of average height, average weight but with an adorable tummy, dark hair kept short and neat, waistcoat with a tweed jacket and round Windsor glasses. His belt and shoes matched perfectly. He looked proper and respectable in his shades of brown from head to toe; completely ordinary and unassuming.

            He was everything that Belladonna Took wasn’t.

            She was already in love.

            _I hope I’m not forced to sit next to some chatterbox … nattering on about this, that or the other thing during the whole trip._

            Bella looked down at her vibrant red sleeveless dress with its heart-shaped neckline, her crocodile handbag and shoes, the near-shear floral summer shawl that she let fall on one side, exposing a creamy white shoulder and quickly ran her fingers through her long, honey-blond hair, bringing it forward so it cascade down the opposite shoulder than the one exposed. She looked down at her book, pretending to read, pretending that she hadn’t noticed the young man at all.

            She was ready.

            As the young man came near, Belladonna cleared her throat casually hoping to turn his head.

            _Oh, my … she’s the most beautiful … is she wearing a wedding ring?_

Bella brought up her left hand to idly tuck a stray hair behind her ear and thus give the man a full view of her un- _ringed_ , left hand.

            _No ring! I wonder if she would mind … just ask her… just …_

            “Excuse,” the man said hesitantly. “Is the seat next to you taken?” _Please say I may sit here._

            Bella demurely looked up through her lashes at the young man and gently toyed with the Amethyst stone. The young man’s eyes immediately went to the gem which also gave him a full view of Bella’s plump breasts; just as she had wanted.

            _Oh, my God …_

            “It’s all yours,” Bella said just above a whisper, gesturing to the empty seat next to her with her eyes and then dropped her hand, while at the same time, she crossed her legs as if giving him more room to sit, when in fact, the move allowed her to slightly pull up the hem of her skirt, giving the man a hint of thigh.

            Oh her sisters would call her brazen but she felt no guilt whatsoever.

            _Holy, moly … she’s gorgeous ...  
_

The man sat down, and Bella continued to read, pretending to ignore him, all the while allowing her shawl to fall down even more and giving the young man a view of her naked arm.

            _Those scones smell delicious ... should I compliment her on them?  Is that too obvious … I should have eaten something … I pray my stomach doesn’t …_

At that moment the young man’s stomach gave a very loud, plaintive growl and even Belladonna could see the poor man’s face glow crimson out the corner of her eye. It was all she could do not to giggle; he was so adorable!

            _Great! Brilliant Baggins! Now she probably won’t give you the time of day!_

Oh, well, she couldn’t have that! She frankly found the idea that he liked her cooking, and his stomach’s longing for it, charming.

            At that moment the bus started and began to move; it was time Bella made her move as well.

            Closing her book, Bella glanced at the young man. “I’m being terrible, aren’t I?” She asked, putting an almost forlorn look on her face.

            “I don’t understand,” the young man said. _You are the furthest thing from terrible I have ever seen._

“It’s so rude not to introduce oneself to another,” Belladonna said with a well-practiced shy smile, turning in her seat so that she faced the man directly. She loved his beautiful green eyes; he was so cute!

            “Oh, of course,” the man said returning her smile with one of his own. “I should’ve introduced myself right off. I’m Bungo.  Bungo Baggins.” Bungo extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss …”

            “Belladonna Took,” Bella said, taking his hand in both of hers. “And I assure you, Mister Baggins, the pleasure is all mine.”

            _Oh, sweet Jesus …_

“Would you care for a scone?” Bella asked, offering her basket for Bungo to pick a scone from. “I made them myself.”

            _I bet you could make stars shine brighter ..._

Oh yes, Belladonna Took decided right then and there that she would be exploring more than the city of Bree that day! It was the start of something beautiful and it carried them through the next thirty years together. Never once, in all those years, did she regret the day she met Bungo Baggins, the love of her life, her One.  And when their time together came to an end, her only regret was that she couldn’t continue the adventure with him.

            “You promise me to live life to the fullest, my love,” Bungo had whispered above the beeping and hissing of the hospital machines.

            “I promise, darling,” Bella said with a small smile, never wanting Bungo to see tears in her eyes.

            “I want to hear all the adventure and trouble you and Bilbo get up to,” Bungo said with true meaning behind the words.

            They both laughed at that and she promised she would. So every night, as she said her prayers before bed, she would tell Bungo all that happened that day! She had promised after all! Sometimes, that promise weighed heavy on her heart, especially when she was alone and remembering the past. But other times, the promise was easy to fulfill—like this morning, sitting at breakfast with Bilbo and his young man, Thorin, Belladonna wanted to take it all in because she just couldn’t wait to tell Bungo!

            “Everything is delicious, Missus Baggins,” Thorin said, trying to talk while eating.

            “Thank you, dear,” Belladonna said, refilling Thorin’s coffee cup. “Would you care for more griddlecakes?”

            “No, thank you,” Thorin said before adding, “Although ... if there are any more eggs?”

            “There are on the stove,” Bella stated with a smile and got up to retrieve them.

            “Any more sausages, Mum?” Bilbo asked.

            “Not made,” Bella called back from the kitchen, “but I could whip some up if you want.”

            “No,” Bilbo said. “Don’t go to the trouble.”

            “It’s no trouble,” Bella replied.

            “He can have my last two,” Thorin offered aloud, spearing the links with his fork and immediately passing them over to Bilbo.

            “Are you sure?” Bilbo asked as he tentatively took the offered fork.

            “Positive,” Thorin said with a wink. “Besides, it allows me more room for another of your mum’s scones.”

            “You sneaky little …” Bilbo gave Thorin a fake scowl but that just earned him another wink and a quick kiss on the cheek from the bearded man.

            Neither of them noticed Belladonna gazing on them with a fond smile.

            “So,” Bella said, coming back into the small dining room and handing Thorin a small plate with the last of the eggs on it, “what are two planning for today?”

            Both men exchanged a quick glance. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out that neither had thought that far yet.

            “Well, I have to open the shop at ten,” Bilbo said quietly, looking a bit disappointed if Bella was correct.

            “Why not close the shop for the day,” she offered. “You deserve to have a whole weekend off.” Sundays were traditionally the day Bag End Books closed.

            “Well …” Bilbo sounded as if he wasn’t completely opposed to the idea. “I could, I guess, but I do have a couple of special orders that were being picked up today.”

            “Couldn’t they wait until Monday?” Bella asked.

            “Maybe, but,” Bilbo said with a sigh, “Missus Broadbottom was going to come by for that copy of ‘Jane Eyre’ today.”

            “Oh, I see,” Bella said with a knowing nod.

            “What’s so special about it?” Thorin asked, still eating.

            “It’s a first edition,” Bilbo answered with a pointed look. “I was able to procure it from a private collector for a reasonable price plus a first edition copy of ‘The Scarlet Letter.’ Missus Broadbottom stated flat out that she would pay double whatever I paid for the Bronte.”

            Thorin nodded. “How much did it cost you ... if you don’t mind my asking,” Thorin queried as he took a drink of his coffee.

            “Forty-thousand pounds,” Bilbo said casually.

            Thorin spewed his coffee and choked out, “FORTY-THOUSAND POUNDS FOR A BLOODY SODDING BOOK?!” Thorin instantly paled, clearly realizing what he had said and turning to Belladonna with an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, Missus Baggins.”

            “You should be, young man,” Bella said very seriously. “That’s a bloody good price for that sodding book!”

            Thorin looked confused. “I meant ... I was ... sorry about the swearing.”

            Belladonna just waved that comment off.

            “Mum has a mouth like a sailor sometimes,” Bilbo stated, nodding along with Belladonna. “But she’s right about the book. The Hawthorne only cost another ten-thousand-pounds, so in the end, Missus Broadbottom is paying me eighty-thousand-pounds for the Bronte, when it only coat me a total of fifty-thousand-pounds when you factor in the Hawthorne, so a thirty-thousand-pound profit isn’t that shabby.”

            Thorin just shook his head. “I’m in the wrong business,” he said dryly.

            “You don’t want to buy and sell rare books,” Bilbo smirked. “It can be cut-throat with some sellers and collectors.”

            “Do you make these kinds of deals all the time?” Thorin asked, clearly intrigued.

            “Not always,” Bilbo assured him. “Three … maybe four, times a year. And not always at this level of pricing.” Bilbo sat for a moment in contemplation. “Although, there was that one copy of ‘Persuasion’ …”

            “I remember that,” Bella added, clearly thinking back on the episode along with Bilbo.

            Thorin didn’t want to know.

            “Well,” Thorin threw out to get back to the day, “Usually Dwalin and I get together with friends and we play a bit of rugby on Saturdays, but he has his showing this evening so no game today.”

            “Showing?” Bilbo asked.

            “He has a showing of his latest sculptures at a local gallery tonight,” Thorin answered as if it was a well-known fact.

            But Bilbo, obviously, hadn’t known anything about it. “He’s an artist?!”

            Thorin nodded. “He does metal work, welding and all that.”

            “I had no idea.”

            “You sell him books all the time, you said. You didn’t know he was a welder?”

            “I did, but I thought he worked construction or something.”

            Thorin laughed. “He used to actually, but he started picking up the scraps at jobs and turn them into these abstract pieces. He's really good at it.  Eventually, he sold one for a shit-load of money about … three years ago, and he decided to do sculpture full-time.”

            “How do you like that,” Bilbo was clearly impressed.

            Thorin turned to Bilbo. “Would you like to go with me tonight?”

            Bilbo flushed but smiled. “Yes.”

            “Wonderful!” Bella said. “I can’t wait!”

            Bilbo looked at his mother incredulously. “Mum! We’re not taking you with us!”

            “Why not?” Thorin asked.

            Now Bilbo looked at Thorin incredulously. “I don’t really want to take my mother on a date with us!”

            “Darling,” Bella said. “Why not call Missus Broadbottom and tell her that the shop will be closed, but that I will be here to make the exchange. Then you and Thorin could have the day to yourselves.”

            Thorin leaned closer to Bilbo and whispered. “I wouldn’t mind an all day date.”

            Bilbo blushed again and said quietly, “I wouldn’t either.”

            As Thorin leaned in and gave Bilbo a kiss, Belladonna was cheering on the inside. She’d have so much to tell Bungo tonight!

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            As it turned out, Missus Broadbottom was thrilled that her much-anticipated book was available. She had been collecting rare books since the death of her husband, and already had first editions of the other Bronte Sisters, but for some strange reason, she could never find a copy of _Jane Eyre_ that was both in excellent condition and at what she considered an excellent price.

            Belladonna gladly concluded the sale and, in fact, managed to complete it and have time to deposit the cheque in the bank before it closed. With ‘the boys’ out on their date, she was free for the afternoon. Naturally, she called her sisters, Mira and Hildi and met them for lunch; sparing nothing in the way of gossip about Bilbo and Thorin.

            Across town, the aforementioned men were having a wondrous day. After cleaning up breakfast, Bilbo showered and dressed casually. They took a cab to Thorin’s flat in Kensington so that Thorin could also clean up and change. That naturally led to Bilbo taking another shower with Thorin and a much-desired sex session. Finally, two hours later, they headed out. First stop was Brixton Market, where they had lunch at Mama Lan’s before a quick walk about.   From there they went to Crystal Palace Park and its maze. Bilbo accused Thorin of trying to get them lost in the maze, but Thorin admitted he really just wanted to kiss Bilbo in the open air; Bilbo didn’t object. Afterward, Bilbo didn’t have to beg to get Thorin to take them for a walk along the Southbank. There were lots of used books—nothing like Bilbo dealt with, but as a bibliophile, he just couldn’t resist. They grabbed a nibble and then headed to Hyde Park where they rented a pedal boat and drifted around the serpentine. Again, Thorin had a very hard time keeping his lips off of Bilbo’s, but Bilbo wasn’t complaining in the slightest. At last, they stopped at Thorin’s to pick up an outfit for him and headed back to Bilbo’s where they showered, changed and met up with Belladonna so that the three of them could go to dinner before Dwalin’s showing.

            “So,” Belladonna asked after their orders had been taken and they were enjoying their drinks. “Did you two have a good day?”

            “It was great,” Thorin said, sending Bilbo a quick smile and a wink. _I know I had a good day._

Bilbo nodded at Thorin’s thoughts. “Thorin and I decided to play tourist in London.”

            “How brilliant,” Bella said taking a sip of wine. “Your father and I used to have dates like that.”

            “You never know what you will find when you venture out,” Thorin added, taking a drink of ale. _Although, I would have liked to see more of you in the maze._

Bilbo blushed and almost choked on his wine; Thorin had nearly talked Bilbo out of his clothes in the maze. “We had a nice time,” Bilbo added lamely.

            “The colour in your cheeks tells me it was more than nice, dear,” Bella said, causing Bilbo to blush even more. “And there go the ears.”

            “Mum, stop it,” Bilbo with a pointed look that only made his mother, and Thorin, laugh out loud.

            Bilbo had to admit, it really was more than nice. Throughout the day, Thorin would think comments about things and people around them and more than a few times had done so just tease or make Bilbo blush. It was cheeky and infuriating as far as Bilbo was concerned and he loved every bit of it!

            And Bilbo could see how many people—men and women—gave Thorin an appreciative once over. At first, Bilbo felt very self-conscious about all the attention Thorin was getting, but Thorin never looked back, never gave the other’s a second thought and he told Bilbo both silently and aloud that he was very happy to have Bilbo by his side. In fact, one woman on the Southbank went so far as to flirt with Thorin while Bilbo was standing right next to him! When the lady made a blatant pass and followed it with a direct offer for sex, Thorin just laughed and stated that he was flattered but that he didn’t think he and ‘his boyfriend’ were really that interested. She blanched when Thorin wrapped an arm around Bilbo’s shoulders and pulled the smaller man into a deep kiss.

            Talk about sweeping someone off their feet. Bilbo wasn’t sure if Thorin had said boyfriend just to irritate the woman or if he meant it truly. Yes, it was only a day, not even twenty-four hours, but Bilbo was falling hard and fast; he didn’t care.

            They arrived at the gallery, run by a very talkative man with wild hair and crazy eyebrows, named Radagast Browne. He was odd but all the best of Dwalin’s works were on display and clearly, Browne had done a fantastic PR job as several dozen people moved about the place—some were clearly from larger galleries and others were art critics.

            “I am particularly taken with this sculpture,” one man said in a very snooty, faux posh accent, as he gazed at a rather large column-shaped piece of highly polished metal. The man was chatting with a woman who looked like she hadn’t eaten since 1974 and dressed in a straight black dress that clung to her skeletal body like cling film. “Clearly the piece speaks of rigidity but one has to wonder if it’s really a cry for release from the mundane and banal wastes of society.”

            The woman nodded in a way that said she totally accepted the crap the guy was spewing and a couple of others standing by also nodded and voiced their agreement.

            _What a load of fucking shit._

Bilbo tried very hard to keep from smiling or laughing.

            _Dwalin said that it was done from a bunch of leftovers that he had no idea what to do with; he calls it ‘DICK.’_

Bilbo snorted at that and, unfortunately, it caught the attention of the man and his companion.

            “I take it you have a different opinion, young man,” the man said with an affronted tone.

            “Well … uhm,” Bilbo stuttered out but Thorin took it from there.

            “It does look rather phallic,” Thorin stated loudly.

            One could almost hear the couple’s jaws hit the floor.

            “I mean,” Thorin pushed on, obviously enjoying himself. “You have to admit that it looks like a giant, chrome dildo.”

            Both the man’s and woman’s face morphed into shocked offense, while Bilbo could no longer hold back and laughed riotously and Thorin just smiled as the man and woman walked away.

            _Fucking idiots; like we’re going to buy their crap._

“You may think that,” Bilbo responded as he got a hold of himself. “But you may have coast Dwalin a sale.”

           “Who cares,” Dwalin said as he came up behind them. “I don’t like to sell to morons—even if they do have deep pockets.”

            Thorin and Dwalin greeted each other with a quick hug and head knock that made Bilbo’s eyes water before Dwalin bent down and gave Bilbo a kiss on the cheek.

            “Thanks for coming,” Dwalin said, taking a swig of beer from his bottle.  

            “We wouldn’t have missed it,” Thorin said.

            “ _We_ ,” Dwalin repeated with a smug look. “Just met last night and already it’s _‘we.’_ ”

            Thorin just nodded. “And speaking of _we,_ ” Thorin said pointedly. “Where’s Ori? Don’t tell me you took off after him just to fling more insults at him.”

            “Yeah,” Bilbo added. “What happened last night with you two?” Bilbo had tried to get a hold of Ori a few times during the day, just to check up on his friend, but Ori’s phone went right to voicemail each time.

            “He and I came to an understanding, you might say,” Dwalin said looking very smug but in an entirely happy, sated way. “Right now, he’s having a family chat with his brothers.” Dwalin pointed across the gallery where Thorin and Bilbo could see Ori through the glass wall, standing outside, having a very animated conversation with two older men; each looked like they would rather be anywhere else at the moment.

            “What’s going on there?” Thorin asked. “I don’t think I have _ever_ seen Nori or Dori look so uncomfortable.”

            “It turns out,” Dwalin said, still wearing his smug look, “that Dori saw Ori catch a glimpse of me before the two of us ever met. Dori didn’t like what he saw and when he found out that I was friends with Nori, he told Nori all about it. Well, Nori then told Dori that Ori was just my type and Dori, not wanting his little baby brother with a bloke like me, told Nori to ‘fix it.’ So, before Ori and I ever officially met each other, Nori proceeded to poison the two of us against each other.”

            “What?!” Bilbo was incredulous. “That’s terrible!”

            “That’s the Ryland brothers for you,” Thorin said with a resigned shake of his head. “Overprotective to the point that this situation isn’t even a shock to those that know them.”

            “When Ori and I finally put the pieces together,” Dwalin continued on, “he called his brothers and invited them to this showing … not telling them that it was mine or that he and I had talked. Once they arrived, he announced that we had started dating and then pulled them outside to have a chat with them.”

            “I think ' _have a chat'_ was Ori’s code for _telling them off,_ ” Thorin said with a nod to obvious dressing down Dori and Nori were receiving from their little brother.

            “They should have known better,” Bilbo said, taking a sip of wine. “You don’t piss off Ori.”

            “Isn’t that the truth,” both Thorin and Dwalin said at the same time.

            It was at that moment that two blurs, one dark, and one light, came out of nowhere.

            “UNCLE THORIN!” the two moving objects yelled and before any of the three men could do more than turn in their direction, two young boys attached themselves to Thorin’s legs.

            “Hey!” Thorin bent down and scooped both boys into a fierce hug. “How are you?!”

            “Awesome!” “Fantastic!” the two boys said in unison as Thorin straightened back up, wrapping an arm around Bilbo and pulling him close.

            “Boys,” Thorin said as his nephews turned to look at Bilbo. “This is Bilbo.”

            “Hello,” Bilbo said with a smile.

            “Bilbo these are my nephews,” Thorin said. “This is Kili,” Thorin gestured to the brunette. “And this is Fili.” Thorin motioned to the blond.

            Then the barrage of questions started from both boys.

            “Are you uncle’s boyfriend?”

            “Are you going to get married?”

            “Are you going to adopt kids?”

            “Are you having sex?”

            “KILI!”

            “What? I’m just asking, Uncle Thorin!”

            “They can’t have sex you knob!”

            “You don’t know that, Fili!”

            “It’s illegal to have sex before marriage!”

            “No, it’s not!”

            “Yes, it is!”

            “No, it’s not!”

            “Mum said so!”

            “What did I say?” a female voice said from behind them.

            Bilbo turned around and was leveled with such a pointed stare that he would have stepped back from it had Thorin not tightened his grip.

            “Dis, this is Bilbo Baggins.  Bilbo, this is—,” Thorin didn’t finish.

            “Thorin’s sister, Dis Durinson,” Dis said coolly as she took Bilbo’s hand in hers, firmly.

            “It’s nice to meet you,” Bilbo said as collected as he could.

“Mister Bilbo is Uncle’s boyfriend!” Kili shouted out.

            “Is that so,” Dis said, her gaze never leaving Bilbo’s.

            Bilbo started to tremble just a bit.

            _It’s okay. Don’t worry; she’s not going to do anything here, in public._

“Tell me, Mister Baggins,” Dis continued softly. “How did you manage to snag my brother?”

            _Oh fuck._

Bilbo was thinking the same thing.

 

**_TBC_ **

 

 

 


	9. Random Gatherings - part 2

* * *

 

 **** _“Tell me, Mister Baggins,” Dis continued softly. “How did you manage to snag my brother?”_

            _Oh fuck._ Thorin was going to kill his sister. “Dis,” Thorin said firmly. “A word.” Thorin took one of Dis’ elbows and began to lead her away.

            “Thorin,” Dis said with a little laugh, “What’s the matter—”

            “Now,” Thorin gritted out.

            Dis rolled her eyes. “Boys, stay here—”

            “With Bilbo.”

            “—with Uncle Dwalin.”

            Thorin marched his sister off to the other side of the gallery and into a corner that gave some privacy if not all that Thorin would want.

            “Just what the _hell_ are you thinking?” Thorin growled out.

            “I _think_ I was just chatting with you and your friend!” Dis countered with a hiss.

            “You’re purposely intimidating him.”

            “You’re reading into it.”

            “Horseshit!”

            “Well … even if I am intimidating him, maybe—”

            “Think carefully before finishing that sentence.”

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            Bilbo and Dwalin just stood there as Thorin moved off with his sister. They didn’t need to be in the conversation to know it was … _terse_ , to say the least.

            “She does not like me,” Bilbo said to Dwalin as he watched Fili and Kili.

            “She just doesn’t know you,” Dwalin shrugged, keeping one eye on Thorin and Dis and his other on the two terrors.

            “I don’t think she _wants_ to know me,” Bilbo stated.

            “Don’t take it personally,” Dwalin insisted. “She’s not a bad person.”

            “Even good people can dislike other people,” Bilbo reminded.

            “Dis is very protective of Thorin and her boys,” Dwalin said softly. “She’s lost many family members; her parents, her husband, her other brother—”

            “Thorin had a brother?” Bilbo was more than a little surprised. He felt like he’d failed Thorin; like somehow, he had let Thorin down by not being attentive enough.

            Dwalin nodded and must have read Bilbo’s emotions on his face. “Don’t feel bad. Neither of them talks about Frerin often. It’s a … touchy subject.”

            Bilbo still felt a small pang of guilt, especially as he and Dwalin continued to watch the subtle argument between Thorin and Dis from across the wide hall.

            “Why don’t you just—” Dwalin started before his whole demeanor changed. “Oi! Don’t mess about, you two!” Dwalin shouted to Fili and Kili.

            “We’re just playing, Uncle Dwalin,” Fili said while Kili nodded, both wearing totally _unbelievable_ innocent looks on their faces.

            “Well, don’t _play_ around the sculptures!”

            Both boys looked at each other, rolled their eyes, turned to Dwalin and in unnerving unison said, “Yes, Uncle Dwalin,” before they both began to play again.

            “You were about to say,” Bilbo asked, his eyes now glued to Thorin’s nephews.

            “Why don’t you just ... _listen_ to him across the hall,” Dwalin stated nodding his head towards Thorin.

            “I can’t,” Bilbo replied, his eyes still on Fili and Kili.

            “You got your necklace on, don’t you?” Dwalin asked, amused.

            Bilbo huffed out a little sigh. “It’s not a cell phone. It doesn’t work that way; there are limits.”

            “Oh really?” Dwalin didn’t need to confess that even after Ori’s experience he wasn’t totally accepting of the gem’s supposed magical abilities.

            “Of course there are,” Bilbo said, continuing to watch the boys. “As I told Thorin last night, I can’t read minds; I only get thoughts … words to be exact. But, more important, it doesn’t work over great distances. I mean, I can’t hear Thorin from miles away, otherwise, I would have found him long ago.”

            “Interesting,” Dwalin wouldn’t have denied that he was intrigued. “So how close does he have to be?”

            “Conversation distance.”

            “Come again?”

            “Conversation distance,” Bilbo repeated, “basically the distance that his voice could be heard, if he was speaking in a normal tone and volume. If he goes beyond that, I loose his thoughts completely.   They only thing that doesn’t matter is what’s going on around us.”

            “I see,” Dwalin nodded. “So … about six metres then?”

            “That’s about right,” Bilbo agreed.

            “And you could be in a stadium full of screaming fans, and you would still hear him clearly?”

            “Exactly. I wouldn’t hear his speaking voice but his thoughts would come through clear.”

            Both looked back over to Thorin and Dis; who were standing at least twenty metres away.

            “However,” Bilbo said quietly, “in this instance, I don’t think I want to hear.”

            “You shouldn’t avoid what you fear,” Belladonna’s voice sounded right behind the two men and they both spun around. “Besides, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that Thorin cares for you and you for him. So beyond that, I can’t imagine what Thorin’s sister would object to?”

            Bilbo shook his head; _how long had his mum been listening to them?_ From her comments, Bilbo figured she must have heard a great deal, if not all, of their conversation.

            However, before Bilbo could actually ask, the two boys almost toppled over a large sculpture, and there was a _very_ loud snap of fingers and that brought both boys, and a couple of adult men within two metres of Belladonna, to an abrupt halt. Both Fili and Kili stood stock-still and stared at Belladonna wide-eyed as they older woman lowered her hand she snapped her fingers with.

            “What did your Uncle Dwalin say, boys?” Belladonna said in a low, sweet voice that still spoke of not being questioned.

            “Not to mess about,” Fili said in a small voice.

            “Yeah,” Kili agreed.

            “Then I suggest you pay attention,” Belladonna quietly and to both Bilbo and Dwalin’s astonishment, both young boys nodded at Missus Baggins. “Excellent. Why don’t you ask Bilbo to tell you a story? You know, he’s frightfully good at that.”

            Kili’s eyes lit up. “Can you really tell good stories, Mister Bilbo?”

            “Well,” Bilbo said, with a tiny laugh. “I’m told I can.”

            “Tell us one!” Fili insisted.

            “Yeah! A good one with a dragon and knights!” Kili demanded.

            “Uhm … all right,” Bilbo said, holding out his hands to Fili and Kili, who each took one. “Let’s go sit down.”

            “Good idea, darling,” Belladonna said with a satisfied smile. “Meanwhile, I’ll go chat with Thorin and his sister.” At that, Belladonna turned on her heel and made for the other side of the gallery.

            “Mum!” Bilbo whispered loudly, but it generated no response from his mother and he could only watch in abject horror as Belladonna set off on a direct path towards the Durinson siblings.

            “Is it a bad thing; your mum going over there?” Dwalin asked, clearly amused again.

            “Are you kidding?” Bilbo said low to Dwalin so the boys wouldn’t hear. “My mum and Dis; like two nuclear bombs going off at the same time.”

            “Boom,” Dwalin replied with a smirk.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            By the time Thorin had finished telling Dis the whole tale, she was beside herself.

            “I just can’t believe you!” Dis said, meaning it completely.

            “What?” Thorin was more than defensive.

            “You meet some … _guy,_ ” Dis spat out like it was a curse word, “who does this phony, mind-reading trick, tells you that you’re his ‘one and only’ and you fall for that crap?!”

            “You don’t know a fucking thing about Bilbo, so don’t—”

            “I don’t need to know jack-shit about Bilbo Baggins to know he’s—”

            “Thorin, dear,” Belladonna’s voice pierced the conversation between the siblings like a hot knife through butter. Both instantly schooled their faces into something calm and collected as Thorin turned to the new comer.

            “Bella,” Thorin said with a smile.

            Belladonna returned the smile and gazed at both Thorin and Dis before continuing on. “Thorin, I just wanted to say thank you for inviting me! I’ve had the most marvelous time.”

            “I’m glad to hear that,” Thorin said reaching out and gently touching Belladonna on a shoulder. The gesture was familiar and warm and Thorin clearly meant it to empathize his sincerity. “Bella, I’d like to introduce you to my sister,” Thorin motioned between the two women. “Dis Durinson. Dis, this is Bilbo’s mother, Belladonna Baggins.”

            “How do you do,” Dis said with a pointed gaze at the older lady and held out her hand.

            “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Belladonna said smiling and taking Dis’ hand.

            For a second, Thorin didn’t read anything wrong, but then he saw something on Dis’ face, a tiny shift in Dis’ expression, which could only mean one thing; she was disquieted. Glancing down, he noticed that for all the handshake between them _looked_ normal, Belladonna had taken Dis’ hand firmly. Very firmly.

            _Oh shit. How much did Bella hear or pick up on?_

“Thorin,” Belladonna said, releasing Dis’ hand and turning to Thorin with a blithe smile. “I forgot to tell you that Dwalin wanted to speak with you.”

            “Oh,” Thorin was thrown off for a second. “Right. Thank you. I should get back anyway.” Thorin made to turn and leave.

            “I should go see the boys,” Dis said quietly and readied to go with Thorin but pressure at her elbow stopped her in her tracks and she looked down to see Belladonna’s steely hand there, holding her back.

            “Don’t worry, dear,” Belladonna said softly. “Their perfectly fine; Bilbo is telling them a story.” Belladonna’s dark eyes sparkled in the soft light like a wolf’s in the night. “You’d better not keep Dwalin waiting, Thorin.”

            “Of course,” Thorin looked between Belladonna and Dis for a moment before heading off.

            At that moment a waiter went by and Belladonna took the opportunity to procure a glass of champagne from his tray, take a sip then leveled her eyes back on Dis.

            Dis took a quick breath and puffed up a bit. “Listen, Bella—”

            “Missus Baggins,” Belladonna said unblinkingly.

            Dis deflated just a bit. “Missus Baggins,” Dis repeated. “I really don’t think—”

            “Clearly you don’t,” Belladonna shot out.

            Dis almost gasped. “Excuse me—”

            “I don’t think I will,” Belladonna dropped any pretense of sweetness. “You obviously have some sort of issue with your brother being with my son. I think I would like you to explain.”

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            “What did you need?” Thorin asked as he came up to Dwalin, who was standing next to the chairs that Bilbo and the two boys had settled in.”

            “I didn’t need anything,” Dwalin stated, looking confused.

            Thorin looked as confused as Dwalin. “Bilbo’s mum told me you needed to see me.”

            “Thorin,” Bilbo said, interrupting the story that he had started telling the boys. “Did you leave your sister and my mother alone together?!”

            “Yeah,” Thorin responded.

            “Oh dear God,” Bilbo looked off, trying to see if he could spot the two ladies.

            “I take it that was a bad idea?” Thorin asked with a little laugh.

            “Boom,” Dwalin said to Bilbo with a wink. “To be a fly on the wall right now!” Both Thorin and Dwalin laughed while Bilbo looked sick.

           

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

_Dis almost gasped. “Excuse me—”_

_“I don’t think I will,” Belladonna dropped any pretense of sweetness. “You obviously have some sort of issue with your brother being with my son. I think I would like you to explain.”_

            “With all due respect,” Dis stated. “I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

            “My son’s happiness is _always_ my business,” Belladonna countered. “It saddens me to see that Thorin’s isn’t yours.”

            “I beg to differ,” Dis said hotly. “I won’t stand by and let anyone hurt my brother.”

            “Is he being hurt?” Belladonna asked with a cocked eyebrow and a quick glance in Thorin’s direction. “Strangely enough, Thorin doesn’t strike me as being that weak.”

            “He’s not weak!”

            “And yet he needs his big sister to protect him?”

            “I’m his _younger_ sister actually.”

            “Oh, I see. Well then, I had no idea that Thorin was so incapable.”

            “What does that mean?”

            “That he isn’t able to make choices on his own. Does he require you to make decisions at the bank for him as well?”

            “Thorin doesn’t need anyone to make decisions for him, and—”

            “And yet, here we are.”

            Dis almost growled. “There's a difference between ‘making decisions’ and being protective.”

            “Overprotective in my opinion.”

            “Look you don’t know anything about our family and frankly—”

            “What is there to know? That as the sole female in the family you feel must decide the fate of the men around you?”

            “That’s untrue and uncalled for!”

            “It’s your behavior that’s uncalled for.”

            “Thorin is the only brother I have left! I won’t stand by—”

            “And let him live his life?”

            “No! I mean … not, ‘no’ in the sense of … that’s not what I meant! I can’t just stand by and let him—”

            “Let him?! He isn’t one of your children. Or, do you actually view him that way?”

            “Of course not! He’s a grown man—”

            “Who, apparently, can’t decide his own fate and happiness.”

            “Of course he can! Look, this isn’t just about Thorin, Missus Baggins, it’s—”

            “Ah, so it really is about my Bilbo. I can’t imagine how he offended you so quickly or is it just his existence that bothers you?”

            Dis huffed out a sigh of frustration. “Oh don’t be ridiculous! And he didn’t offend me—”

            “And yet, as I said before, here we are.”

            “You’re just trying to talk me in circles!”

            “No, dear. I’m letting you paint yourself into a corner.”

            Dis stilled at that and actually took a step back. There was a rushing in her ears as memories bubbled up in her mind.

 

            _“You’re not listening to me, mummy!”_

_“I’m listening to you perfectly well, young lady.”_

_“But you keep asking and saying the same things!”_

_“Because your arguments have painted you into a corner.”_

            Dis could almost hear her mother laughing now. “You know … what you just said Missus Baggins … reminds me of my mother.”

            Belladonna gave Dis a small smile. “Then I consider myself in good company.”

            Dis did laugh at that. “I think you two would have liked each other.”

            “The woman who raised a man as intelligent and charming as Thorin,” Belladonna said softly, “and raised a woman as sharp and caring as yourself; how could I’ve not liked her.”

            Dis nodded as she said quietly, “I … I really do worry about Thorin, Missus Baggins. I care about him greatly.”

            “Of course you do, my dear,” Belladonna said gently. “If you didn’t care, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. But caring can’t justify pushing others away or the ruination of happiness for someone else.”

            “I just … I just don’t want to see Thorin get hurt.”

            “That’s a natural desire,” Belladonna nodded in agreement. “Yet, I’m sure you realize, deep down, that there is no possible way of keeping the ones we love from being hurt. Life doesn’t work that way.”

            “We can try,” Dis quipped with a laugh that also had the older woman laughing as well.

            “Yes, we can,” Belladonna said. “However, never forget that sometimes our good intentions can cause more pain and hurt than that which we try to protect them from.”

            Dis nodded and smiled; once again it was the same advice her mother often gave her. “I really didn’t mean to hurt Thorin or your son, Missus Baggins.”

            “Oh, my dear,” Belladonna said with sly smile. “I don’t think there was much, if any, damage done.” Belladonna pointed over to where the men were. Thorin was sitting next to Bilbo who had an arm around Fili who in turn was talking animatedly, Kili balanced on Thorin’s lap laughing; for all the world they looked like a little family. It touched something with both women, although neither commented on it.

            But Dis did have something else on her mind.

            “Aren’t you concerned, Missus Baggins?” Dis finally asked, looking back at the older woman. “I mean, Thorin and Bilbo only just met and … don’t you think they’re rushing things?”

            “Of course I’m concerned,” Belladonna said lightly but sounding resigned. “They’ve barely known each other twenty-four hours and yet look at them; inseparable.” They looked back now and it was Kili who was talking a mile a minute, Fili had moved to stand in front of Bilbo who had both arms wrapped around the blond boy almost protectively, and Thorin was laughing, one arm holding Kili steady on his lap while the other was around Bilbo’s shoulders, drawing him close.   “But what one calls rushing another calls ‘going with the flow.’ However, I have to trust in faith. And that’s really what it all boils down to in the end; I have to have faith that they know who to trust their hearts to.”

            Dis sighed. “I fear I’m not good at that,” she said, sounding a little sad at herself.

            “It’s hard,” Belladonna offered. “We’re mothers … that means the concern, worry and fear for our loved ones, even if they aren’t our children, never goes away, but it will get easier to deal with.”

            Dis took a deep breath and released it slowly. She knew she had to accept that Belladonna was right; she also knew her mother would agree with the other woman. “Thank you.”

            “For what, dear?” Belladonna asked, clearly perplex at Dis’ appreciation.

            “For telling me what I needed to hear, not what I wanted to hear.”

            “Sometimes we all need that proverbial mirror held up in front of us. Believe me; I am sure I will get an earful from my son for this little … _discussion_ of ours.”

            Dis snickered at that. “I take it he prefers proper manners and tries to avoid embarrassing situations.”

            Belladonna just shook her head with a smile. “I love my son to pieces, but as God is my witness, he can be a right stick in the mud sometimes.”

            Dis let loose a riotous laugh at that and before she even thought about it, not caring, only because she had to do it, Dis pulled the older woman into a hug. “Thank you again, Missus Baggins,” Dis whispered. “It was almost like having my mother back again.”

            “Oh, my dear,” Belladonna replied as they pulled back. “That is probably the sweetest thing you could’ve said. And please, you must call me Bella.”

            “I’d like that,” Dis said with all sincerity.

            “So would I,” Belladonna smiled; she so did love making new friends.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            _Holy fuck!_ Thorin sat up straight and stared off.

            “What?!” Bilbo said; trying to see what Thorin is looking at. “What’s happened?”

            Thorin turned to the smaller man and shook his head. “Dis just laughed and hugged your mother.”

            “What?!” Bilbo craning his neck to try and see where the two ladies are, but a group of people had now blocked his point of view. “Are you sure it was a laugh and not a scream?”

            “Yeah,” Thorin said nodding in the general direction of the two women. _And, they’re heading this way._

            It was just a minute before the boys were joined by Belladonna and Dis who were laughing about something between themselves.

            “Everything alright?” Thorin asked with a slightly narrowed look that shifted between the two ladies.

            “Of course,” Dis said, looking confused.

            “Why would you ask such a thing, Thorin dear?” Belladonna inquired with a bemused smile.

            _What the hell are these two up to?_ Thorin could see Bilbo nod in agreement.

            “You know perfectly well why he asked, Mum,” Bilbo said with pursed lips, clearly not falling for anything from his beloved mother.

            Before Belladonna could reply or comment further, both young boys turned to their mother.

            “Mummy,” Kili said excitedly. “Mister Bilbo told us a story about knights and a dragon and hoarded gold and everything!”

            “That’s lovely, sweetheart,” Dis smiling from Kili to Bilbo, which only further confused the blond man.

            “Yeah! It was brilliant!” Fili added with just as much enthusiasm.

            “I hope you both thanked him,” Dis said as her two children nodded in agreement. “In fact, maybe Uncle Thorin and Mister Bilbo will be willing to watch you tomorrow around lunch.”

            Thorin gave his sister a suspicious look. “Yeah,” he said. _Please say you’ll watch them with me?_ And again, Thorin saw Bilbo nod in agreement. “Why do you need us to watch them?”  Thorin had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

            “I just thought,” Dis replied, turning to Bilbo’s mother, “that Bella and I could do lunch tomorrow. If you’re free, of course."

            “Oh, that sounds lovely!” Belladonna gave Dis a brilliant smile.

            _Bloody hell! Save us all!_ “I’m not so sure,” Thorin stated firmly, “that I’m comfortable with you two going out to lunch.” He looked at Bilbo who nodded emphatically.

            “Well, isn’t it a good thing then,” Dis snarked, “that neither Bella nor I need your permission.” Belladonna gave the two men pointed looks that only supported Dis’ comment.

            _This is a nightmare_

            “It’s totally a nightmare,” Bilbo agreed wholeheartedly with Thorin’s thoughts.

            “Oh, stop,” Belladonna said with a wave of a hand. “You worry too much,” she commented before clapping her hands together and looking at the two youngest in the group.  “Who wants to go for ice cream and desert?”

            “I do!”, “I do, too!” Both boys were jumping up and down excitedly, causing their mother to laugh.

            “Well, come on then. My treat,” Belladonna held out her hands and the boys each grabbed on as she led them and their mother away. “Dis, dear, I meant to tell you that I simply love the perfume you’re wearing.”

            “Oh, thank you!” Dis beamed. “It’s Caron’s Poivre. Thorin gave it to me for Christmas last year.”

            “Well, it’s simply divine,” Belladonna continued on as she, Dis and the boys left Thorin and Bilbo standing in place, a bit stunned.

            Bilbo slowly turned to Thorin. “I’m sort of scared of the notion that those two will get to know each other.”

            Thorin nodded; he knew just what Bilbo was saying. “Nothing for it, love.”

            Bilbo just shook his head and sighed; it was too late to put the genie back in the bottle.

            “Don’t worry, though,” Thorin said softly, wrapping his arms around Bilbo from behind and pulling the smaller man to him, gently resting his chin on top of Bilbo’s head. “I’ll keep you safe.”

            Bilbo giggled at that and leaned back into Thorin. “I know you will. I trust you.”

            “Are you two coming or not?!” Dis called back.

            “Yes,” Thorin said. He took Bilbo’s hand, walked them both to Dwalin and Ori to say goodnight and then made to follow his sister and Bilbo’s mother out of the gallery and into the city where they both steeled themselves for whatever the women had planned.

            “God help us both,” Bilbo said quietly as he watched his mother and Dis.

            “Once again,” Thorin stated, “you took the words right out of my head.”

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            “I had a lovely day,” Bilbo said softly as he stood on the steps of Bag End Books, holding both of Thorin’s hands in his own.

            After desert and coffee, they grabbed a cab, dropping Dis and the boys off first--with a promise to call in the morning and shore up the time to watch Fili and Kili--then continued on to Bag End Books. Belladonna had wished Bilbo and Thorin a goodnight before making her way up to her flat while the two men stood on the front steps to say their own farewells.

            _So did I._ Thorin leaned down and kissed Bilbo. “Are you sure you don’t mind watching the boys tomorrow?” Thorin asked. _You aren’t required to, and if you would rather do something by yourself, I will understand._

“Stop right there,” Bilbo said with pursed look. “Because I’d be thrilled to spend time with you at DVLA, so watching your nephews is not a chore.”

            Thorin smiled at that. “I didn’t want to assume.”

            Bilbo reached up and wrapped his arms around Thorin’s neck. “When it comes to you and I doing things together, you have my blessing to assume.”

            Thorin leaned down again bestowed Bilbo with a heartfelt kiss. _Does that mean I can assume to spend tonight with you?_

Bilbo broke the kiss to lean up and whisper in Thorin’s ear, “That’s not an assumption, that’s a foregone conclusion; if you want it.”

            “Your place or mine,” Thorin breathed out as he ghosted his lips over Bilbo’s cheek.

            “Your place is fine by me, but I do have a bed just four floors up.” Bilbo kissed Thorin’s ear and elicited a small hitch from the tall man.

            _Then what the hell are we doing standing on the front steps of your shop?_

Bilbo giggled. “I didn’t want to assume.”

           That made Thorin laugh, and Bilbo again took both of Thorin’s hands in his own and pulled his lover into the townhouse and up the stairs to what was quickly becoming their bedroom.

 

 

 


	10. Exact Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies to everyone - i have lost my computer - literally it died. I haven't been able to get my stories OFF the old hard drive!! So I had to basically rewrite this chapter and I am getting a friend to get my stuff off the old hard drive because the next chapter is half written - ON THERE! wish me luck and I hope you all enjoy this update.

* * *

  

Belladonna didn’t need her son or Thorin to tell her what was happening. She had eyes, she could see. She hadn’t lied when she told Dis that she had had her own concerns regarding Bilbo and Thorin’s quick romance, but she also hadn’t lied when she basically stated she was resigned to it. It was their life, let them live it.

            And really, hadn’t she been there herself?

            Of course, she had.

            At first, the boys stayed equally at each other’s place for the most part. A few days at Bag End, as Thorin affectionately called the townhouse, and then a few nights at Thorin’s flat. Weekends were almost exclusively at Bag End. But after about a month into the relationship, Bag End became the de facto choice.

            So really, when the question of Christmas day had come up, it seemed natural, a given really, that they would have everyone over to Bag End for the day. Belladonna was there, of course, Dis was invited along with Fili and Kili, all three having come to adore Bilbo, Dwalin and Ori were invited, especially as the two couples spent a great deal of time together. And Bilbo had gone on to invite his cousin and his wife, Drogo and Prim, along with their young boy, Frodo.

            Eleven people made for a—cozy fit, but it was pleasant. The three young boys hit it off; keeping each other occupied all day with little problem. Between Belladonna, Bilbo, Dis, and Prim, they had more than enough food; it had been decided that instead of a huge sit down meal, they had finger-foods, snacks, treats, and nibbles all through the day and then that night they would bring out cold ham, turkey, chicken and roost beef to make sandwiches along with delicious side salads.

            Bella, Dis, Prim, and Drogo were all chatting away; Dwalin and Ori were playing with the boys, Dwalin looking adorable in everyone’s eyes with Frodo, Kili and Fili hanging off him like a tree and Ori laughing at them. Bilbo was making more cookies in the kitchen and Thorin had followed, for what Bella was sure was a little alone time.

            It was a wondrous, relaxing day. So much so, that despite expecting what was coming for weeks now, Belladonna was almost as unprepared as Thorin and Bilbo.

            There suddenly came a loud clatter from the kitchen, the sound of metal hitting the floor. Before anyone could call out if everything was okay, Bilbo came running through the room and raced up the stairs.

            “Bilbo!” Thorin called out twice as he made to follow Bilbo. “Bilbo, wait!”

            There was no answer but the slamming of the bedroom door and they could just hear Thorin pleading with Bilbo.

            “Sweetheart,” Thorin said through the door, “Please open up.”

            There was still no response but Thorin heard Bilbo softly crying.

            “Bilbo, I’m sorry,” Thorin was near begging. “I don't know what I did but I didn’t mean to upset you.”

            Nothing.

            “Bilbo, please talk to me.”

            “What’s going on?” Belladonna asked as she came up the stairs.

            “I … uhm …” Thorin stuttered out, before adding lamely, “Bilbo’s upset.”

            “Clearly,” Belladonna said a little dryly.

            “We were talking in the kitchen and … and I …”

            Oh dear.

            Belladonna turned and knocked on the bedroom door forcibly. “Bilbo Baggins. You open this door immediately!”

            There were long few seconds before the door unlocked and Bilbo opened it, his eyes red. And there was the briefest of moments while Bilbo stood there.

            “Sweetheart,” Thorin said quietly before Bilbo launched himself at Thorin and wrapped himself around the taller man. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you…”

            Bilbo just shook his head while clinging tighter, and said nothing.

            “Bilbo, please …”

            “You owe Thorin the truth, Bilbo,” Belladonna said.

            “What truth?” Thorin didn’t understand; how could he.

            “He can’t hear you,” Belladonna said.

            “What?” Thorin’s confusion was evident.

            “In the kitchen,” Belladonna explained. “Can I gather you told him you loved him?”

            Thorin looked sheepishly. “I did … I mean, it wasn’t all, but …”

            “I can’t hear you anymore,” Bilbo whispered, pulling back to look up at Thorin.

            “You can’t …”

            “In my head,” Bilbo said miserably. “I can’t hear you anymore.”

            “The gem only works,” Belladonna continued gently, “until the time one can say, “I love you” and mean it.”

            Thorin was obviously turning things over in his head. “So the legend about the king and his consort …”

            “Whether that is true or not,” Belladonna said, “we can never know. But like the king in the story, when you finally have the courage to say, ‘I love you’ out loud, the gem is no longer needed.”

            Thorin cupped Bilbo’s face and kissed him over his cheeks and forehead. “I love you,” Thorin repeated softly with each kiss. “And I will tell you every day if you need it because I will tell you gladly. You won’t need a gem to know how I feel.”

            “Yes,” Bilbo whispered back.

            “Sorry?” Thorin asked.

            “In the kitchen,” Bilbo said, “you asked me a question. My answer is, yes.”

            Thorin stilled and his eyes widened. “Do you mean it?! You don’t have to say …”

            “Thorin,” Bilbo murmured. “The answer to that question was always going to be, yes.”

            Thorin gathered Bilbo up and kissed him soundly as Belladonna caught up.

            “Wait,” Bella said a little stunned. “Did you ask Bilbo to …?”

            “I did,” Thorin said with a huge grin and holding Bilbo tight.

            “And I said, yes, Mum,” Bilbo said with a smug look.

            Belladonna screamed for joy, gave the boys a quick hug before leaning over the railing and calling downstairs. “DIS! PRIM! There’s going to be a wedding!”

            A pregnant silence stretched for a moment before both women shouted at once, “OH MY GOD!”, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING?!”

            There were general laughing and shouting which only got worse when Dwalin was heard to say loudly, “Oh for the love of – what a couple of saps!”

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

**_FIVE YEARS LATER_ **

 

            It was just a quiet afternoon. It was the day after Bilbo and Frodo’s birthday—which thrilled the young thirteen-year-old to no end; sharing his birthday with his favorite uncle, and Drogo, Prim and Dis were all gathered at Beg End with Bilbo and Thorin. Frodo, Kili and Fili were running around the house, playing hide and seek. This was a good thing, as Prim and Drogo had serious business to discuss.

            “As you know,” Prim said to Bilbo, “Drogo’s little scare last month got us thinking.” Drogo had had a mild heart attack, an ischemic attack according to the doctors, barely four weeks prior.

            “Thinking, what?” Bilbo asked.

            “Well,” Drogo started, looking at Prim first and then continuing on. “What if something were to happen to both of us.”

            “Oh God,” Bilbo huffed out. “Don’t say that.”

            “Why not?” Prim pushed. “It’s always a possibility. Our only concern would be for Frodo.”

            “That’s understandable,” Thorin said with a nod.

            “Well, our point is,” Drogo said, “we want to make sure that Frodo would be taken care of.”

            “That’s why,” Prim filled in, looking at Bilbo, “we would like you and Thorin to be his guardians should anything happen to Drogo and me.”

            Bilbo looked stunned but when he glanced at Thorin, he relaxed.

            “We would be honored,” Thorin said solemnly and Bilbo nodded.

            “He adores you both,” Prim stated.

            “And I would hate for him to be taken in by the other Baggins,” Drogo said with a cocked eyebrow at Bilbo, who in turn knew just what Drogo was saying.

            “Please,” Bilbo held up a hand. “Let’s not even think about her.”

            That made all the Bagginses in the room laugh.

            “You do realize, Bilbo,” Dis said with a small smile, “That Thorin’s already named as Fili and Kili’s guardian should anything happen to me.”

            Bilbo shook his head. “No, I didn’t know, but you really didn’t have to tell me. I kind of took that as a given.”

            “Could you imagine,” Prim said, an evil grin on her face. “Thorin and Bilbo getting all three boys?!” Both women laughed but Thorin rolled his eyes.

            “On that note,” Thorin stood up, “I think I’ll have a drink. Anyone want anything? Ladies?”

            “Nothing for me,” Prim said.

            “I’ll have a small one,” Dis agreed.

            At that moment, the adults were interrupted by three laughing, giggling boys as Frodo, Kili and Fili came running in, excited.

            “I can read minds!” Frodo announced to the room.

            “You what?” Bilbo asked but then noticed the gleaming amethyst hanging on his neck. “Where did you get that?”

            “It’s my fault, Uncle Bilbo,” fourteen-year-old Kili said.

            “You know you aren’t to play with your Uncle’s things,” Dis scolded.

            Kili looked guilty. “It was an accident! I knocked over the box by your bed when I went to hide in Uncle Thorin and Uncle Bilbo’s room!”

            “Honest,” Fili said, the fifteen-year-old coming to Kili’s defense.

            “What do you mean you can read minds?” Prim asked. She and Drogo knew the legend of the gem before they were ever married and she knew Dis knew already too.

            “I put on this necklace,” Frodo said with a huge smile, “and now I can read minds.”

            All the adults just stared at him.

            “Go on,” Kili prodded. “Prove it to them!”

            “Well,” Frodo giggled as he turned away and closed his eyes. “Kili’s thinking how cool this is …”

            “You can read Kili’s thoughts?!” Bilbo and Thorin said in unison.”

            “… and Fili isn’t sure if it’s real or not.”

            “Wait a minute,” Prim said, glancing at Dis.

            “You can hear both Kili _and_ Fili, in your head?” Dis asked looking back at the three boys along with the other adults.

            “Yeah!” Frodo said with a toothy grin.

            There was nothing but silence from the adults for several long seconds until Prim cleared her throat.  “Thorin,” Prim said quietly, “I think I’ll take that drink now.”

            “Make mine a double,” Dis added with a nod.

 

 

 


	11. Absolute Beginning - part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EVERY STORY HAS A BEGINNING ... EVEN IF THAT BEGINNING HAS BEEN LOST OVER TIME ....

* * *

 

            Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, also known as Oakenshield, Crown Prince of Erebor, de facto King Under the Mountain, Leader of Durin's Folk, had a problem.

            And as always, when he had a problem, Thorin sought solace in solitude.

            Not that it was working mind you.

            The gardens of the skin-changer, at first seemed perfect for quiet contemplation. Winding paths took one through hedges and small orchards, past herbs and abundant vines and plants laden with vegetables and edible flowers. There were even plants that seemed to have no purpose but to provide comfort; roses, daisies, and tiny blue forget-me-nots. So vast and dense were the gardens that one could be close to the house at times and still not seen. Even the paths themselves were perfect because while they all led away from the structure, they all returned there as well, so one could not get lost. It was all perfect for Thorin's needs.

            And yet, the garden and its paths also reminded him, near painfully, of the very problem he sought to solve; Bilbo Baggins.

            Everywhere Thorin looked, Bilbo seemed to 'follow' him. Pale pink roses, the same color as Bilbo's cheeks. Tender leaves of Sage, the same color as Bilbo's eyes. Not to mention, the Lamb's Ear plant, so soft to the touch, reminded Thorin of Bilbo's skin, at least what Thorin could feel when the two had hugged on the Carrock. Thorin even imagined the honey in the bee-hives would match the golden sheen of Bilbo’s hair.

            Thorin stopped his wandering and released a growl of frustration.

            When, exactly, had Bilbo Baggins become such a problem? When had the 'miserable mite' wormed his way into Thorin's every thought? When had the 'annoying Half-ling' ceased to be so--annoying? When had the questionable burglar become so unquestionably necessary to their quest? When exactly had the fussy little thing gone from 'insufferable Hobbit' to treasured balm for Thorin's heart and soul?

            _Easy,_ said the traitorous voice in Thorin's head, _when he proved his loyalty, honor and willing heart on innumerous occasions, then proceeded to save your life, despite your dishonorable treatment of him, and now, you can no longer deny, even to yourself, that you have desired him almost from the first moment you met him._

            Thorin knew it was all true. It was impossible now to hide—or hide from—his feelings. Try as he might, they were there, haunting him like Bilbo's smile in his dreams, like Bilbo's laugh as it lingered in his ears even long after Bilbo had gone silent. Just like Bilbo's quiet presence—which Thorin was always aware of, to the point that Thorin didn't need to turn around and look to know exactly where Bilbo was at all times.

            And if Thorin was to be honest, his feelings weren't really the problem. Not really. The problem was what to do about them that plagued Thorin.

            "You could just tell him," said a deep, and irritatingly calm voice from behind the prince.

            "And what would you have me tell him?" Thorin said, turning to face Gandalf and more than a little annoyed to have his heart so easily read.

            "The simple truth would do," Gandalf replied, infuriating Thorin even more.

            "The simple truth," Thorin parroted back and turned away. The truth was so far from simple as to be laughable. "And do you believe that such words would be welcomed by Master Baggins?" Because Thorin didn't.

            "I do not think you need to fear his response," Gandalf said.

            Thorin did release a laugh, as hollow as it was. "After all that I have said and how I have treated him?! I do not share your optimism."

            "But Bilbo does not hold such things against you, Thorin. Surely you must know that."

            Thorin wasn’t sure of knowing any such thing, but he would admit, that Bilbo's near unlimited ability to forgive was yet another in a long, growing list of things that Thorin found endearing.

            "What is it you really fear, Thorin?"

            Thorin wanted to spit out that fear was not something a Dwarf felt, and especially not a Dwarf-king. But he knew it would be another lie; he did fear and Gandalf, clearly, knew it. Thorin couldn't hold back his confession. "No words I could utter would come close to the depth of what I feel. And Bilbo deserves nothing less and so much more."

            Gandalf did not respond but without turning and looking, Thorin had the distinct impression the wizard was looking through him like a clear pane of glass. Thorin wasn't sure if he found that disconcerting or comforting.

            "What would you do," Gandalf asked quietly, "if Bilbo were a Dwarf?"

            Thorin didn't need to think on that. "I would gift him a token that spoke of my desire, my esteem. Something that would show him what he meant to me. Something worthy of him."

            "Then, can you not do the same for a Hobbit?"

            "You know perfectly well that gems and gold have little to no effect on a Hobbit's sensitivities." Thorin wanted to add that it was Bilbo's very nature of not being a Dwarf that was so attractive; Bilbo was nothing like anyone he had met before.

            Gandalf was again quiet before asking another question. "Do you know what Hobbits give when they ... desire someone?"

            "I haven't a clue," Thorin replied quietly. That was true and yet untrue at the same time. No one had ever mentioned to Thorin what a Hobbit would do when faced with the one they loved. He knew nothing of their courting habits. However, he had overheard a small snippet of conversation between Balin and Bilbo regarding gifts.

 

            _"Flowers mean a great deal to Hobbits," Bilbo said._

_"Indeed, Master Baggins," Balin replied, clearly intrigued. "Are they given for all occasions?"_

_"They can be," Bilbo said, turning over a single daisy in his hand. "Even death and grief have flowers associated them. This daisy, for instance," Bilbo held up the flower he had been twirling between his fingers, "means, 'innocence', so children are encouraged to give them to each other as signs of friendship. But Daisies are also often gifted by young brides to their grooms to show they are worthy of them."_

_"Interesting," Balin stated._

_"Of course," Bilbo said with a little giggle. "Sometimes a flower is given just because it is beautiful."_

_"Dwarrow also have a language such as that," Balin continued on, "but, as I'm sure you can guess, we use gems."_

_"I can see the correlation," Bilbo said, softly. "Both are bright and beautiful in their own way and come from the very thing that defines each race; flowers from the fertile fields that Hobbits love and gems from the mountains and stone of the Dwarrow." Bilbo was silent for a few long moments before asking casually. "And ... what would one use ... say for ... courting?"_

_"Depends on the intent and message of the giver," Balin said._

            Thorin had heard no more beyond that; he realized he had drifted too close in his eavesdropping at the same time as the other two; they went quiet when they realized the Dwarf-king was so close. Maybe they were embarrassed at their conversation ( _Thorin hoped not_ ), or perhaps felt Thorin would think the subject matter inappropriate ( _which he didn't_ ), or, more likely, Bilbo had become nervous because Thorin was still snapping and snarling at the poor Hobbit and Bilbo hadn't wished to incur Thorin's wrath ( _and this just broke Thorin's heart even more_ ).

            "Hobbits, use flowers and plants to speak their minds," Gandalf confirmed.

            "So you are saying I should gift Master Baggins with a flower?" Thorin asked hotly, but in reality wanted an honest answer.

            "Certainly not," Gandalf answered. "You are not a Hobbit."

            Thorin again growled in frustration. "Then stop speaking riddles and tell me what you mean!"

            "You are not a Hobbit and Bilbo is not a Dwarf," Gandalf said as if this wasn't obvious.

            "Yes, I believe we have established that!" Thorin was getting angry. Just what was Gandalf's point?

            Gandalf sighed. "My _point_ , Thorin is this ... if Bilbo were to gift you with a flower, even without knowing its probable romantic intent, would you toss it aside and dismiss it?"

            "Certainly not!" Thorin was appalled at the idea. "I would treasure even the lowliest daisy."

            "Then, don't you think Bilbo would cherish ... to paraphrase your own metaphor ... even the lowliest pebble if it was given with true intent?"

            Ah, clever. Thorin had been pinned into his own corner. But he would have to admit, for the first time since his walk in the garden, he felt hope blossoming in his chest.

            "Have you a gem to gift Bilbo with?" Gandalf asked.

            Thorin nodded and from a well-hidden pocket inside his tunic, deep under his armor and leathers, he pulled out a gleaming Amethyst. It was a lovely gem, cut in a long-oval shape and was slightly bigger than the palm of his hand. It was wrapped in thin, copper wire and hung on a thin, leather strap.

            "That is quite the gem, Thorin." Even Gandalf was impressed.

            "It was my mother's," Thorin said, gazing softly down at the gem in his hand. "As the wife of the heir to Erebor, she had countless Diamonds and precious stones, but she always wore this jewel. She said that it had value beyond measure as my father had mined and cut the stone himself and presented it to her as his first courting gift. She called it The Lover's Heart and she refused to be parted with it. She wore it long after my father had vanished; until the day she died.

            "And as the years went by, and we were forced to sell off what few treasures we had so that we could have food to eat ... the gold that this stone was once set in was even sold off ... I still refused to part with this gem; I would have starved first."

            Gandalf looked incredulous. "And now you wish to gift such an heirloom to Bilbo?"

            "Of course," Thorin replied as if Gandalf's question was offensive.

            Gandalf shook his head. "I must tell you, Thorin. With such a gem, that bears such a history ... if you gift that to Bilbo and tell him that tale ... well, I guarantee that you will have little to fear of his response."

            "Truly?" Thorin couldn't believe it could be that easy.

            "Oh yes," Gandalf said with a chuckle. "Gift him that jewel and tell him you love him; nothing more will need be said."

            "I cannot tell him such a thing!" Thorin said aghast. Why the very thought of saying those words aloud sent cold shivers down Thorin's spine and he knew what it truly was to fear.

            "Why ever not?" Gandalf demanded. "Do not tell me you do not feel it."

            "I do, but," Thorin shook his head. "As I said before, he would not believe such a thing from me."

            "You are wrong," Gandalf insisted.

            "No," Thorin stood firm. “In this I am right. Such pretty words he would never believe of me, he would at the very least think me a fool, or at worst a liar, and I would lose him.   I will make my intentions known and he will come to understand."

            Gandalf sighed and looked down at the Amethyst. "May I see the stone?"

            Thorin gave the wizard a suspicious look but did slowly hand it over. "What do you intend to do with it?"

            "I just want to look at it, Thorin," Gandalf said with an offended air; hoping it would hide the lie in his words.

            Gandalf took the jewel, held it between two fingers and turned his back to Thorin so that he could hold it up to the light of the sun. It was rough cut but flawless in his clarity. It would be perfect. As he brought the gem back down and in those few moments before he turned, as the gem was hidden from Thorin's sight, Gandalf cupped the stone between his hands and whispered in Khuz-dul, **"E aglub ik-kurdu 'arkh la' ik-kurdu aglub id-abkât."** _(I speak the heart's desire until the heart speaks the truth)._ The gem burned hot in his hand and glowed for a moment, but as he finally turned back to Thorin, the Amethyst was cool and gave no indication of the deep magic it now possessed.

            "This is a splendid jewel," Gandalf said, holding out the stone for Thorin to take. "It is perfect on many levels."

            "What do you mean by that?" Thorin asked with a narrowed look, as he slowly took treasured gem back.

            "Only that you could not have chosen a more perfect gift if you had tried," Gandalf said serenely.

            Thorin looked down at the Amethyst in its poor cooper setting and plain leather strap and doubted very much Gandalf's words. But before he could do more than muse over his gift, a gentle voice sounded his name."

            "Thorin," Bilbo said, coming around the path behind the Dwarf-king.

            "Master Baggins," Thorin said turning to Bilbo and doing his best to school his face into a neutral expression.

            "What brings you out to the gardens?" Bilbo asked with no hint of censure.

            "I was just ..." Thorin started, but as he turned to where Gandalf had stood, Thorin found that the wizard had vanished as he had appeared; into thin air.

            "You were just ..." Bilbo said.

            "I was just ..." Thorin turned back to Bilbo, and, Mahal help him, knew this was it. "I was just looking for you."

            Bilbo's eyes widened. "For me?" Bilbo asked quietly with what Thorin thought was apprehension. "Do you need something? Is there something wrong?"

            Thorin showed no emotion but oh how it hurt to hear Bilbo ask if something was wrong; as if he were in the wrong. Enough was enough in Thorin's opinion.

            "I do need something," Thorin said calmly. "Your company."

            “Oh,” Bilbo said, a little surprised mixed with relief and maybe a little happiness, or so Thorin hoped. “I would be pleased to provide that.”

            _Pleased_ , Thorin turned over the word in his mind. _Would you truly be so pleased?_ “Shall we continue to walk, Master Baggins?” Thorin asked, gesturing towards the path. “Or would you prefer to sit for a while?”

            “Walking would be fine with me,” Bilbo said with a smile and small shrug. “Unless you would like to sit. After all, you were the one used as a warg’s chew-toy.”

            Thorin couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Quite true, Master Baggins.” Thorin did love Bilbo’s dry wit. “But to be honest, it matters little to me; your company is all that I need.”

            “Thank you,” Bilbo said with a slight blush.

            “It is I that should thank you,” Thorin said quietly. “For all that you have done.”

            “You’ve already thanked me, Thorin,” Bilbo stated. “And you know that if I had to do it again, I would.”

            Thorin was dying inside. “After all the many wrongs I have visited on you, and things I have said, how can you still find it within you to forgive me?”

            “Because you were correct,” Bilbo replied.

            “Hardly.” Thorin hung his head, ashamed.

            “But it was all true,” Bilbo said, laying a gentle hand on Thorin’s arm and draw the Dwarf’s attention. “If anyone had told me the things I would do on this journey, I would have laughed in their face. Never would I have dreamed to do half of what I’ve done, let alone all.   And you were right to worry in the beginning. As leader of the company, you couldn’t afford to risk the quest on the weak link in the chain.”

            Thorin wanted to kick himself; he remembered calling Bilbo a weak link near the start of their journey; how he regretted it now. “You are far from weak.”

            “Perhaps,” Bilbo agreed, “but there was a time when it was quite true.”

            They had started walking almost by instinct and now Thorin found that they were far from the house. The small brook that ran through the garden had one spot where it formed a pool of sorts and it was here that Bilbo made to sit on the ground, in the shade of an apple tree.

            For long minutes, neither said anything, but Thorin feared his courage to be slipping away and decided that it was now or never. Yet it was Bilbo who broke the silence first.

            “How are you feeling?” Bilbo asked suddenly.

            “I’m … uhm …” Thorin said, caught a little off guard. “I’m well.”

            “That’s good to hear,” Bilbo replied. “I feared the warg had done permanent injury to you.”

            Thorin wanted to say that his armor was strong or that Oin was so very good or even that Bilbo should not worry so. But Thorin could only take in that when Bilbo had said the word, ‘feared’, he had sounded afraid, even hurt at the memory.

            “No. I am well,” Thorin assured. “Thanks to you.”

            “Really, Thorin. You don’t have to thank me.”

            “But I do,” Thorin insisted. “In fact, I have something I would like to give you to show you my … my … my gratitude.” Thorin wanted to smack his head into the tree behind them! Why was this so difficult!

            “Thorin,” Bilbo said, turning to the king, “you needed trouble yourself with …” But Bilbo was stuck silent as Thorin opened his hand and presented the gem. “Oh, my word …”

            “I want you to have this,” Thorin said softly.

            “This is so … so,” Bilbo truly was amazed. “It’s beautiful.”

            Thorin smiled. “I did not think Hobbits appreciated jewels.”

            “Well, usually they don’t,” Bilbo answered. “But there are jewels and then there is _this.”_

“Can I assume you like it then?”

            “It’s … extraordinary,” Bilbo turned the gem slowly over in his hands. “It reminds me of an iris petal.”

            “A what?” Thorin hadn’t heard of this flower.

            “An iris,” Bilbo repeated and pointed across the pond to a small area where tall flowering plants stood. The flowers were deep purple and while the outer petals were bent and curled outward from the center, the middle held tall erect petals in almost a spear shape; Thorin could see why Bilbo was reminded of them in the gem.

            “Is it a bad thing, to look like … an iris?” Thorin was hoping that the flower didn’t represent death or hatred or some other horrid thing.

            However, Bilbo was blushing. “Far from it,” he said. “They are beautiful to look at and many give the flower to those that they … admire.”

            “Oh, I see,” Thorin was surprised to say the least.

            “And of course …” Bilbo started but tapered off, sounding hesitant.

            “Or course what?”

            “Well,” Bilbo cleared his throat before adding quietly, “they happen to be one of my favorite flowers.”

            Thorin suddenly remembered Gandalf’s words, _‘It is perfect on many levels’_ , and couldn’t help but smile to himself. Naturally, Gandalf would know Bilbo’s favorite flowers and know the meaning behind it. Perfect indeed.

            “Where did you get such a gem?” Bilbo asked, cradling the stone in his palm like a delicate bloom.

            “It was my mother’s,”

            “Your … your _mother’s?_ ”

            Thorin nodded, and once again was reminded of Gandalf’s words and advice. He proceeded to tell the tale of the stone, it's gifting by his father, his mother’s attachment and the full story of what the stone meant between them. But Bilbo’s reaction was not exactly as Thorin had hoped.

            “I can’t accept this!” Bilbo stated firmly; thrusting the gem back at Thorin.

            “Why not?” Thorin was almost hurt.

            “You can’t possibly think this gift is appropriate?”

            What a fool he was to have listened to the damn wizard! Meddling old man! Thorin wanted to find Gandalf and separate his head from his shoulders!

            But then Bilbo said, almost sadly, “You should gift this to someone special.”

            That brought Thorin’s thoughts to a standstill. “Do you not think of yourself as special?”

            “I’m just a simple Hobbit,” Bilbo answered, looking resigned. “I’m not worthy of such a gift.”

            Oh by Mahal, Thorin was going to behead himself; all the guilt he felt for his former words pieced him. “Master Baggins, you are so much more than a just a simple Hobbit. And you are most certainly worthy of even greater gifts.”

            “No, Thorin,” Bilbo said, shaking his head and looking down at the gem in his hand. “I mean, you should gift this to someone who is special to you. Someone you care a great deal for, someone you care deeply for.” Bilbo's voice had gone almost to a whisper. “You should gift this to someone who holds your affections.”

            Thorin reached out and before he could think better, he cupped Bilbo’s cheek, turned the Hobbit’s face to him and leaned in for a quick but heartfelt kiss. It seemed to last far longer than it was, but as Thorin pulled back, he said, “Believe me, Master Baggins, I already have.”

            Bilbo only stared back, wide-eyed and clearly stunned. He said nothing and worry began to nag at Thorin’s heart.

            “Of course,” Thorin said, swallowing thickly. “I will understand if you do not return my feelings, seeing how I have treated—”

            Thorin didn’t finish as Bilbo reached out, grabbed one of Thorin’s braids and brought their lips together for all together heat-filled kiss that sent fire through Thorin’s veins and wiped all thought from the king’s mind. If the first kiss seemed long, this seemed like eternity and Thorin would have gladly given up his quest to stay there forever.

            When they finally pulled apart, Thorin could just barely form words to speak. “Am I safe to assume that my feelings are returned?”           

            Bilbo giggled brightly, not knowing how it lifted Thorin’s heart. “Oh yes,” Bilbo said, flush from their kiss and almost as breathless as Thorin. “You may more than assume.”

            Thorin smiled and gently took the Amethyst from Bilbo’s hand and slipped the leather cord over the Hobbit’s head. As the stone settled over Bilbo’s heart, Bilbo swooned as if lightheaded and Thorin had to hold on tight to keep his treasure from falling over.

            “Are you all right, Master Baggins?” Thorin was more than just concerned. But even as he finished asking the question, Bilbo seemed to right himself and shook his head to clear it.

            “I’m fine,” Bilbo said before looking up at Thorin through his lashes. “And I think you should call me Bilbo from now on.”

            “Bilbo,” Thorin said softly, taking both of Bilbo’s hands in his own and began to softly kiss the Hobbits palms.

            But Bilbo suddenly stilled as Thorin’s thoughts filled his mind.

            _I would call him treasure, for he is far greater in value than all the gold of Erebor. I would call him my heart and my soul but then I no longer own those things to call them mine, he owns them, completely. I would call him love but he would never believe me if I were to utter such things to him._

Bilbo could only watch as Thorin, eyes closed, gently kissed his hands and wrists, clearly never realizing that Bilbo could hear every thought, every endearment, which passed in the Dwarf’s mind. And Bilbo realized that he didn’t care if it was unnatural or not to hear Thorin’s thoughts, he only wanted to never stop hearing such tender, sweet musings.

            “Could we stay here for a while?” Bilbo asked.

            “As long as you wish, Bilbo,” Thorin said, now kissing Bilbo’s wrists. _I would rather be here with you than anywhere else in all the world._

“Will you hold me close, as well?”

            “You need not ask.”

            Thorin pulled Bilbo to him and the Hobbit snuggled close to the warmth that was his Dwarf. And if Bilbo hugged Thorin tighter whenever the king thought a particularly lovely or tender thought of Bilbo, then it was Bilbo’s business alone.

 

**_TBC_ **

 

 

 


	12. Absolute Beginning - part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every story as a beginning and an end - this last chapter is a bit of both ...

* * *

  

_“YOU BETRAYED ME!” Thorin screamed; his hand a vice around Bilbo’s neck._

**_You have betrayed my love as well as my kingdom!_ **

_Bilbo could just barely hear Thorin’s thoughts. The anger and sickness within the Dwarf’s mind overshadowed everything else and Bilbo knew that Thorin was merely spouting out words and deeds based on that anger. “Thorin, please,” Bilbo pleaded. “I’m trying to save you.”_

_“LIAR!” Thorin thundered. “YOU GAVE THE ONE THING I WANTED ABOVE ALL ELSE TO THE ENEMY!”_

_Bilbo’s heart was breaking. “Above all else?” he asked in a whisper._

_Thorin continued to sneer but Bilbo fancied that it smoothed a bit and Thorin didn’t answer the question. “You are a liar and … and … a thief!”  Thorin hissed out the last and Bilbo was struck by just how much Thorin sounded like Smaug when the great dragon had writhed like a whore on his horde of gold.  “By the beard of Durin,” Thorin cried out, “I wish I had Gandalf here so that I may curse him for his choice of YOU!   After what you have done, I should throw you to the rocks!”_

_Bilbo knew perfectly well that it wasn’t ‘Gandalf’s choice’ of Bilbo that Thorin was cursing, but Thorin’s own; in choosing Bilbo for a mate. Even with the intention of protection, Bilbo had betrayed Thorin and his love. Bilbo silently cursed the Arkenstone for the mess it had caused and as Thorin dangled him over the parapet, over the jagged rocks below, he cursed the stone for taking Thorin from him; for his Thorin was long gone and in his place was this creature of avarice and pride—a dragon if ever there was one._

_“STAY!” A voice rang out, stilling all others. An old man standing next to Bard threw back his hood and cloak and there stood the wizard Gandalf. “Here is the one you seek and curse, Thorin Oakenshield! And none too soon it would seem. If you do not like my choice of burglar then I ask you not to damage him; I will take him back! Put him down!”_

_Thorin continued to glare but he did pull Bilbo back over solid ground and dropped him to his feet._

_As Gandalf ascended the stairs towards them, he still tried to reason with Thorin. “You should listen to Bilbo. He knows the way to peace.”_

_“YOU ARE ALL IN LEAGUE TOGETHER!” Thorin bellowed but did as Gandalf suggested and turned to Bilbo, a snarl upon his lips. “What have you to say, you descendant of rats?!”_

_“Thorin,” Bilbo said softly, but it was clear he would not reach the king’s heart. Finally, after several long seconds, Bilbo moved on. “You told me … once … that I could have my choice of the treasure; my fourteenth share. Perhaps I took it too literally—”_

_“Perhaps,” Thorin spat out._

_“—but be that as it is, I took the Arkenstone as my share and I have disposed of it as I wished. Let it go at that.” It was a feeble excuse, a thinly veiled one at that, but it was still hard to argue with. Nothing Bilbo had said was untrue._

_“Very well,” Thorin growled out contemptuously. “I will let it go. And I will let you go at that! May we never meet again!” Thorin turned and began to stalk away._

_Bilbo wondered how it was that his heart still beat when it was broken in two, but it continued pounding in his chest nonetheless and he wanted to call out to Thorin to please see reason and to come back to him, but he knew it would be useless. He could only make sure that war was averted. “What about the gold and silver you promised to the Men and Elves?”_

_Thorin stopped and slowly turned back. “That will follow after, as can be arranged,” he ground out. “Now get down to your friends. Before I change my mind and THROW YOU DOWN!”_

_But just as Bilbo was about to leave, Thorin surged forward._

_“I doubt there is any reason for you to keep this!” Thorin’s hand shot out, grabbed the Amethyst and with a great yank, snapped the thin leather cord. “Mahal knows, you have stolen enough from me; I won’t let you take my thoughts as well!”_

_Bilbo could only stand and stare as Thorin and the rest his friends retreated back into the mountain.   Yet there was but a small glimmer of hope as more than a few of his friends seemed to look upon him with pity and shame in their eyes._

_“Farewell,” Bilbo called out. “I hope we meet again as friends.”_

_“Do not hold your breath with your hope,” Thorin shouted back over his shoulder._

 

            It was the last Bilbo had seen of Thorin before the clash of armies. Throughout the battle, the Hobbit was desperate to return to the mountain’s foot and stand by his love, but he never did find Thorin. He did try; weaving and dodging and ducking in and around Men and Elves, Dwarfs, Orcs and Wargs—if it lived and was on the battlefield, Bilbo encountered it. But a rock, thrown from the mountain in defense, struck him in the head and brought it all to nothing; darkness rose up to take him and Bilbo descended into the realm of unconsciousness.

            When he finally opened his eyes again, the battle was long over.

            At first, only the vaguest sounds reached him; a muffled moan of the wind, muffled cries of the injured, dying and those seeking aid. As his mind cleared, he realized that it was his helmet masking the world and he slowly sat up and removed it. Once gone, Bilbo realized that it was what he didn’t hear that made him scared; the cacophony of war was missing.

            Standing on shaky legs, he saw a few Men, Elves and Dwarfs searching among the fallen. Whether they were searching for the living or the dead, he wasn’t sure but he imagined it was both in most cases.

            Yavanna knew, there was only one he wanted to search for.

            He called out to a nearby searcher for help but the man only looked around confused. That was when Bilbo realized he still wore his ring.

            As Bilbo appeared out of thin air, the Man startled.  “Who are you?!” said the man.

            “Bilbo Baggins. Companion of Thorin Oakenshield!”  Hot guilt ran through him but he pushed it down. He wanted to make sure Thorin was well and he didn’t want to waste time.

            “It is good that I found you!” the man exclaimed.  “You are needed and we have been looking for you long!”

            “Needed?  Why ever for?  What is wrong?!”  Bilbo felt panic rise in him.

            The man ignored the questions but asked, “I will carry you down to the camp.”   

            The man swept Bilbo up in his arms and while he would normally protest at such treatment, he knew that it was for the best. Stepping over dead Orcs and Wargs, the man took Bilbo towards a cluster of tents to one side of the battlefield.   As they drew closer, the Man when into the largest of the tents and there before him on a small cot was the bloodied and battered form of Thorin Oakenshield. 

            There was little color in Thorin’s face and Bilbo could barely see his beloved King's chest rise and fall as he rushed to his side.   Heavy bandages with angry, bright red blood seeping through them, wrapped his chest and many more wound around his arms.  His face was a patchwork of cuts and bruises.  His eyes were closed and he did not open them even as Bilbo gently took his hand.

            Gandalf stood at the foot of the cot and gestured for Bilbo to come forward; not that the gesture was needed.

            “Thorin,”  Bilbo said, barely above a whisper.  “It’s me, Bilbo.  I’m here.” After several long seconds without a response, Bilbo called to the king again, “Thorin ...”

            There was a slow inhale and Thorin opened his eyes halfway and blinked.  He turned his head and a small smile formed as his gaze fell on the Hobbit.  Bilbo kissed the back of Thorin’s hand never taking his eyes from the king.

            “Farewell,” Thorin whispered, “good thief.”

            Bilbo choked back a sob.  “No!  Don’t say that, Thorin. You're going to be all right.”  Bilbo threw Gandalf a quick, questioning look but the Wizard simply looked away, unable to hold Bilbo’s gaze.

            “Don’t cry, my dear burglar,” Thorin continued, “I am so sorry.”  Thorin’s smile faded a bit and his eyes glistened with tears. “I didn’t mean—”

            “Shhhh—” Bilbo could not contain his tears and he used all his efforts to keep his voice as even as possible, lest Thorin did not hear him clearly.  “I should ask you for forgiveness. I did all the wrong things, regardless of the right reasons!”

            Thorin smiled and a tear slowly ran down his cheek.  “I forgave you the moment you were gone ... I regretted everything as soon as I realized I had chosen gold over the one being I truly treasured.   But now I go to where all the gold and silver have no worth.”

           “Thorin ... Thorin, please stay with me!”

            “I … love … you,” Thorin whispered as Bilbo felt something pressed into his hand and looked down to see that Thorin had given him the Amethyst pendant. Thorin released a ragged breath, but no matter how much Bilbo begged, Thorin Oakenshield drew no more.

            He was gone.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            And so the journey and legend of the pendant began.

            Bilbo returned to The Shire and never wore the pendant again, but always kept it near. He never spoke of his love for Thorin or anything that transpired between them. It was his and his alone, he wouldn’t share Thorin with anyone.

            However, when Bilbo made the decision to leave Middle-Earth for Valinor, Gandalf and Elrond both told him that it was not immortality that he sailed too; he would live out the remaining years of his natural life and pass on as he was meant to do.  That meant the pendant would simply end up being buried with him, or Frodo, who had decided to accompany him into the west.  And, as neither of them had children, who was he to pass the pendant onto?  Bilbo believed the gem had become far more than just an heirloom of Thorin’s family, it was now the physical manifestation of their love, which Bilbo still carried in his heart.  In the end, taking the jewel with him to Valinor meant the love he shared with Thorin would be buried in the undying lands, essentially forgotten by all.

            That, to Bilbo, just couldn’t be born.

            So, just before Bilbo and Frodo sailed across the water to the west, the elderly Hobbit took his young cousin, Peregin “Pippin” Took aside and, in a Valar-blessed moment of clarity, told him the secret of his love for Thorin, the story of the gem, and passed the great jewel on to the Took family.

            Pippin wore the jewel ever after, only hinting to his cousin Merry it’s origin or story.  Pippin used the gem to find his own true love; Diamond of Long Cleeve.

            Eventually, the jewel passed on from Pippin to his son, Faramir. Faramir gave it to his own daughter. Back and forth the beloved pendant moved; parent to child, sibling to sibling, cousin to cousin, Took to Baggins. The gem was treasured and guarded, even in hard times, and the story became a little more romantic, a little more twisted until finally, after near countless centuries had passed into history, and Hobbits of both the Took and Baggins clans had married and breed into the world of Men, the origins and names of the original lovers were lost.

            No one, especially Gandalf, knew what trouble that pendant would cause.

            When the time had come for Gandalf to return with the other Maiar to the heavenly realms of the Valar of Middle-Earth, he was denied entry. It seems that he had left something behind, something a bit too powerful; he had failed to remove the last trace of magic’s existence from the world of Men; the Amethyst of Thorin and Bilbo.

            Oh, how he laughed at that! Leave it to Bilbo Baggins and Thorin Oakenshield to still cause him trouble, long after their souls had traveled to the afterlife.

            And speaking of Thorin and Bilbo, they were causing their own brand of trouble for the Valar.

           Thorin raged and thundered about in the Halls of Mahal that he was denied his love! After everything he had suffered, endured and accomplished, whether known or not, in the name of keeping the forces of Darkness from overtaking Middle-Earth, he was now to be denied Bilbo’s presence for all eternity?! Mahal himself could barely contain Thorin’s anger.

            Bilbo on the other hand, while always respectable and well-mannered, gave Lady Yavanna no end of snark, sarcasm, and irritation in his constant, continuous and very vocal displeasure at being refused to have or even visit Thorin. Bilbo could not go to Mahal’s Halls and Thorin wasn’t allowed to come to Yavanna’s Ever Green Field.   Bilbo thought that wholly unacceptable and reminded Yavanna every, single time they met. Yavanna could only hang her head and endure the Hobbit’s stinging comments.

            Mahal and Yavanna tried to make amends, tried to correct the situation.  But they could not and in the end, Bilbo and Thorin could take no more.  As fate would have it, Eru intervened. He would change them at their cores, at their very souls, and allow them to be reborn into the race of Men; if their love was true, they could be together through a second life and pass on together after death to where the souls of Men go. 

           That was good enough for them.

           Setting the stars in motion, Eru sent Gandalf back to lands of Men and there the ancient wizard waited for the coming again of his friends. Old conditions, situations, places, and names returned; Dale, Bree, Hobbiton, Took, Baggins, Belladonna, Bungo. None remembered or knew what had come before. Then, quicker than Gandalf knew it, Bilbo Baggins and Thorin Oakenshield were once more in the world.

           It took him ages to get those two stubborn, head-strong men together, but together he got them and how lovely to see that the love they bore through all the pain, and strife, battles, and heartache, was still there and as true as ever.

           And, after the pendant had brought together one last couple, at Frodo’s wedding reception, Gandalf finally got his hands on the pendent again and removed the spell he had placed on it millennia ago.

           About time! Gandalf felt he could now have peace and quiet! He was done with meddling!

           For now anyway …

 

_**There is now a prequel - you can read about the moment Eru put it all in motion!** _

 

_**[RANDOM LIVES](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3170687)** _

 


	13. The End ...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS A REWRITTEN, NEW VERSION OF THE ENDING - WHY, YOU ASK? SIMPLE, AN EXTREMELY TALENTED WRITER AND ONE OF MY DEAREST FRIENDS, HAS TAKEN ON THE TASK OF TAKING THE STORY BEYOND THE ENDING I HAD.
> 
> THIS NEW ENDING LEADS YOU TO HIS TALE OF THE STORY OF FRODO, KILI AND FILI ....

* * *

  

_**TEN YEARS LATER (after Chapter 10)** _

 

            Thorin sat reading in bed; the only sound the soft scrap of paper when he turned a page. Bilbo had long ago fallen asleep but Thorin could find no rest; it was late and Frodo was still not home.

            Thorin was perfectly aware that Frodo was not their son, and that the young man could come and go as he pleased. He was perfectly aware that Frodo lived with them as a renter because it was cheaper than trying to rent a place on his own, but at the same time, Frodo was living away from his parents. And Thorin was perfectly aware that Frodo didn’t need nursemaiding.

            But Thorin was perfectly aware that he wasn’t about to go to sleep when his youngest nephew, who was too damn sweet for his own good, was out there and God only knows what could happen and Thorin needed to be awake, dammit!

            Just in case.

            Thorin turned another page and started reading about the invasion of Normandy. It wasn’t like he didn’t know this story from every angle already, but he wasn’t really reading to learn, just something to do, until—

            Thorin stilled; was that the front door?

            He tilted his head and listened but heard nothing else. That didn’t surprise him; Frodo could be quiet as a mouse. He continued to listen, holding his breath even, until—he heard the soft tread of Frodo’s socked feet at the top of the stairs. Thorin smiled to himself; naturally, Frodo would remove his shoes and tip-toe upstairs, even knowing that he didn’t have to sneak in like a thief in the night.

            Thorin relaxed. He could go to bed now and he reached for the switch to turn off the lamp.

            Thorin stilled again; what was that he just heard? He waited and there it was again and he didn’t need much to figure out it was a sniffle. And not a sniffle as in, _‘I think it’s just a cold, Uncle Bilbo.’_ or _‘It’s just allergies, Uncle Thorin; don’t worry so much.’_ No, this sniffle had been an honest to God sniffle of _‘I’ve been crying and I’m trying to be stoic about it.’_

            Thorin was out of the bed and reaching for his dressing gown before Bilbo even rolled over in his sleep.

            The landing was in total darkness except for the faint light bleeding from under Frodo’s bedroom door. Making his way over, Thorin pressed his ear to the door, wondering for a second if he had imagined the sniffle or if—no, there it was again.

            “Frodo?” Thorin whispered loudly enough to be heard through the door as he also lightly rapped on the door itself.

            There was nothing for a few second and then Thorin heard the floor creak a moment before Frodo cracked open the door to look at him.

            “Something wrong, Uncle Thorin?” Frodo asked, clearly trying his hardest to sound casual. Thorin heard through that though.

            “That’s my question to you,” Thorin stated. “What’s wrong?”

            Frodo looked down, seeming to fidget and Thorin allowed the boy to have his moment of disquiet; it told Thorin that his instincts were correct if nothing else.

            “I’m fine,” Frodo said, not meeting Thorin’s eyes.

            “I wasn’t asking that,” Thorin said firmly. “I asked what was wrong. And don’t get me started on you being ‘fine’ when you obviously aren’t.”

            Thorin hated watching Frodo’s chin start to quiver but knew he had been given the pass to continue. Frodo turned away and allowed Thorin to gently push open the door and entered. As Frodo sat on the side of his bed, Thorin came to sit next to him and the first thing he noticed was the Amethyst laying on Frodo’s bedside table; not hanging around the boy’s neck.

_Oh shit._

            Thorin had a pretty good suspicion as to what the issue was.

            Thorin and Bilbo had always suspected that the damn gem—regardless of how wondrously it brought them together—would lead to some sort of heartache for Frodo. Especially seeing as just ten years before, Frodo had heard both Fili and Kili in his head.

_Had both confessed love and expected Frodo to choose? Seems unlikely. Had one confessed, but both had been silenced before Frodo could know which the right one was? Possibly. Or was it more that one confessed but it was the other Frodo was actually in love with himself and yet, the other hadn’t said anything?_

_Christ on a cross, what a fucking mess._

            What really upset Thorin the most, though, was that whatever had happened, it was Frodo that was suffering and Thorin just could not stand for that!

            “Tell me what’s wrong, Dodo,” Thorin whispered softly, hoping Frodo’s childhood nickname—a nickname Frodo had only ever allowed Thorin to use into adulthood—would draw the young man out.

            It worked.

            “We went out tonight,” Frodo said quietly.

            “We,” Thorin repeated. “You and—”

            “Kili,” Frodo finished.

            “So, what happened?”           

            “We were just supposed to go to dinner and a movie.”

            Thorin nodded in reply.

            “During the movie, Kili had his arm around my shoulders—”

            Thorin couldn’t help but smile; Kili was always very tactile. Especially with Frodo.

            “I didn’t mind, but I had a strange feeling that something was going to happen.”

            _And it did,_ Thorin thought.

            “Afterwards,” Frodo added, “It started to rain and we were standing close together, trying not to get wet and ...”

            Thorin waited; he knew what was coming.

            “I couldn’t help but ask him,” Frodo continued, “if something was wrong, and he kept saying that nothing was but the more he said ‘no’, the more I … I knew what he was going to do and say. Finally, Kili just turned me and … pulled me close and … and kissed me.”

            Again, Thorin could only smile to himself. “Was that all?” Thorin already knew it wasn’t.

            Frodo shook his head. “When he pulled away, he told me he loved me.”

            Thorin nodded.

            Frodo burst into tears and Thorin immediately wrapped his nephew in his arms and held him, swaying just a little. Thorin was instantly reminded of a time when Frodo was little and Thorin had cradled him close as the youngster cried buckets watching Harry Potter and Dobby had died. Thorin knew then that Frodo was just too sweet for his own good.

            Thorin wanted to chuckle; he remembered when he confessed he loved Bilbo and, Bilbo, in turn, bawled his eyes out because he suddenly couldn’t hear Thorin in his head and thought that it was all ruined. Far from it; if anything, it had solidified Thorin’s love for him.

            “Frodo,” Thorin said softly, pulling back and turning Frodo’s face to look at him, “Just because you can’t hear Kili anymore doesn’t mean that your love is over. It’s just the beginning of something wonder and special. Trust me.”

            Frodo looked confused. “But Uncle Thorin,” Frodo sniffled out, “I don’t love Kili.”

           Thorin was confused now. “You don't?”

            “I don’t, honest,” Frodo stated a little more controlled.

            “Then why all the—”

            “I’m crying because I feel horrible,” Frodo said as if it all made sense.

            _That much I get,_ Thorin thought.  “I don’t understand, Frodo.”

            “Kili looked hurt and I couldn’t tell him the truth; that I hadn’t heard his voice for several months now.”

            Thorin just sat there and hoped he didn’t look as gobsmacked as he felt. He had always figured it would be Kili; Kili always laughed and tickled and joked around with Frodo. Or at least, that’s what Thorin had seen.

            “It started right after the beginning of the year,” Frodo pressed on, “I thought that, maybe, I was hearing things wrong. But by the time March came around, I was having a hard time hearing everything that Kili was thinking. I was able to play it off or pretend that I heard him wrong, but by the end of April, Kili’s voice was totally gone.”

            Thorin suddenly remembered Frodo saying, in passing, that he wasn’t wearing the gem because it was _‘too heavy’_ or _‘didn’t go with what I’m wearing’_ or something. Now it made sense—Frodo didn’t want to have to explain why he wasn’t hearing one of the boys. Or was it both.

            “Could you still hear Fili?” Thorin inquired gently.

            Frodo nodded. “As a matter of fact, as Kili’s voice faded, Fili’s got stronger and stronger; so strong that I once heard him downstairs, in the book shop, while I was up here in my room.”

            That was news to Thorin—and he was sure it would be to Bilbo. It was always believed that one couldn’t hear their love unless they were close. Leave it to Frodo to be the total exception.

            “Frodo,” Thorin asked. “Does this mean … does this mean what I think it means?”

           Frodo turned his watery eyes to Thorin. “I’ve been in love with Fili for so long.”

            Now talk about a surprise. “How long?” Thorin was amazed.

            “For as long as I can remember,” Frodo said. “But I never thought he would love me. Kili is convinced that Fili loves me as well but … even though I hear him and have loved him …” Frodo’s voice trailed off and Thorin barely heard him whisper, “I have nothing to offer him, why would Fili ever love me.”

            “Frodo,” Thorin said quietly, “I know you feel bad about Kili, but he will come to accept it with time.” _I hope,_ Thorin thought. “But, most important, you need to tell Fili the truth. He deserves to know that you love him and love him honestly and you don’t deserve to feel guilty about it; you did nothing wrong. There is no guilt in falling in love.”

            Frodo seemed to doubt Thorin’s words. “It'll be so hard.”

            “If the gem teaches us anything,” Thorin said with surety, “it is that the truth of love is a treasure that is best shared. Share that truth with Fili. Lord knows, your uncle’s love has been the greatest treasure of my life.”

            Frodo threw his arms around Thorin’s neck and hugged him tight as Thorin planted a kiss on Frodo’s curly head. As they pulled away, Thorin urged Frodo, “Get some sleep. Things will be better tomorrow.”

            Frodo nodded again and moved to get under the covers as Thorin got up to leave. At the door, Thorin was stopped by Frodo’s voice.

            “Thank you, Uncle Thorin.”

            “Anytime you need me; I’m here for you.”

            “I know. I love you.”

            “Love you too, Dodo-bird.”  

            Frodo let loose a little giggle at Thorin’s words and Thorin turned off the light, closing Frodo’s door and making his way back to his own bed; to the warmth that was Bilbo. As Thorin switched off his own light and turned to snuggle close with his husband, Bilbo proved he wasn’t quite as asleep as Thorin thought.

            “Is everything okay,” Bilbo asked in a sleepy voice.

            “I hope so,” Thorin whispered near Bilbo’s ear.

            Bilbo hummed in reply. “So ... Frodo finally told Kili he wasn’t in love with him.”

            Thorin froze. “You knew?”

            “I have eyes,” Bilbo replied, turn in Thorin’s arms. “I can see.”

            “It’s going to be hard for Kili,” Thorin stated.

            “I know,” Bilbo stated. “As much as I have seen the torch Kili has carried for Frodo, I am more than aware of Frodo and Fili’s love for each other.”

            “You knew that too?” Thorin was stunned. “And you are just now telling me?”

            Bilbo shrugged. “To paraphrase a wonderful man, ‘the truth is a treasure that is best shared’, so I am sharing.”

            Thorin really shouldn’t be surprised that Bilbo had eavesdropped; he just smiled. “Well, if you want my truth; I love you.” Thorin tucked his head and kissed Bilbo who hummed appreciatively in return.

            “And I love you,” Bilbo said as he held Thorin tightly. “My treasure."

 

[ _**BUT THE STORY DOESN'T END HERE - FOLLOW THE CONTINUATION BY BEETLE, 'GAMGEE GARDENS'** _ ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2696984/chapters/6035603)

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Gamgee Gardens](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2696984) by [beetle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beetle/pseuds/beetle)




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